To Try
by Feyren
Summary: People say things only improve. They're liars. They're all liars. Because my life, my teammates' lives, are all falling apart. And I, Kirihara Akaya, am caught in between.
1. Prologue

All words in this prologue have been spellchecked and reread. This is written in Akaya's point of view; the story will most probably take place sometime in his senior year of high school, with the seniors in their freshman year of college. Enjoy.

* * *

When I was but a child, an old family friend said to my mom, who was going through a tough time in her life, "Things only get better. You have to get past the pain and let the good reach you."

I don't think I really understood a single word in that sentence back then, to be honest. As a six year old, well, you don't know a whole lot of words. And besides, I was a little slower than usual. I forgot about that sentence as time wore on.

One day, I came home crying because I lost my favorite watch: an expensive, important watch that had belonged to my deceased granduncle. It was a few years later; I was around nine. My mother smiled down at me and pulled me into a hug. "Akaya-chan," she said quietly, rocking back and forth, "things can only get better. You have to get past the pain and let the good reach you."

I was bewildered, but by then I was old enough to understand the basic meaning of that line. I began applying to everyday life. I wanted so much to believe it was true. Amazingly, my grades began to improve, my popularity hit the charts, and I was simply happier in general. I was overjoyed. I knew it. I could feel it. Things would get better, would improve. All I had to do was let it. I knew I would eventually reach my well-deserved day of perfection.

And I did, as a second year. I had a fantastic captain and assistant captain, great teammates who all cared about me, and an infamous reputation. I thought what they said was true, about things growing better and better. After all, as a first year, my nonexistent reputation as a tennis player was . . . well, nonexistent.

But things only got better from there on. It was miraculous how the team managed to stay together. How we managed to win every school we attended a good old tennis trophy. How we had everything planned out, how we arranged to meet again from time to time when we became adults, how we managed to keep our silliness and childish antics even as high school students. From my senior year in junior high, my freshman year in high school, and my junior year; things got better and better. But then again, I was so blind at the time I wouldn't have noticed a crisis if it were dancing in front of my nose in pink boxers.

In any case, I couldn't wait for senior year. I could feel it; it was going to be the best. It was going to be epic. It was going to be memorable, something I would one day tell my love-struck fans and fanatics. Everything about my senior year was going to be special. I would breeze through it, graduate, and go to the same college as the rest of my teammates because we were all just awesome that way.

But things started crumbling before I got there.

That was when I began to realize that they were wrong. They were all wrong. I had been living, been hoping, been _trying . . . _for a lie.


	2. I

"Kirihara!"

I grinned to myself. Sakako-sensei had seen through my mask, apparently. Literally. I was wearing a mask with eyes and a mouth drawn on it. The nose . . . didn't really look like a nose. It was a little trick I used to pull in junior high school. Never got me through even five minutes of class, but it was worth a shot. "Yes, sensei?" I asked charmingly through my mask.

"Take that darling little mask of yours off, if you please."

"But sensei! I can't just peel off my skin, you know."

"Want me to peel it off for you?"

I feigned a surprised gasp. "I'm flattered, sensei. I never knew you felt that way about me."

The class roared with laughter. I snickered, proud of my accomplishment. Some would say I spend too much time around Niou-senpai. If you ask me, they're just jealous they don't have an awesome senior who knows how to build an atomic bomb.

My teacher shook her head slowly, as if she had given up. "Go to your fifth period class!" she announced. Then, quietly, she added, "I need a new job."

"LUNCH!" I cheered happily, running out into the courtyard. The field was shared by Rikkai High and Yuki University, a branch of RikkaiDai University. We – that is, my teammates and I – always thought of the college name as something of a pun. Yukimura was the president of the student council, and so we always referred to him as President Yukimura. Coincidentally, the name of the university changed from Navy University to Yuki University the same year my teammates entered it.

Yukimura really was God.

"Yo!"

I looked up. Niou was waving to me. The rest of the team followed closely behind. "Hi," I replied, smiling.

The first thing Yukimura noticed was the mask lying on my book-bag. "Caught?" he guessed.

I nodded shamelessly. "Sakako-sensei has good eyesight."

"Hiroshi could see that from a mile away without his glasses!" Niou averred. I proceeded to kick him in the shin. Yagyuu gave me an approving smile.

That was when I noticed someone was missing. "Where's Jackal-senpai?"

Sanada seemed just as confused as I did, despite his stone-faced expression. "Apparently, he had something to discuss with his family members and principal. He had to leave in the middle of science class."

"Lucky him," I grumbled.

Yanagi shook his head. "He seemed very upset. He must have had some idea of what was going on, but he didn't say anything when I saw him in the hallways."

Yukimura seemed amused. "You aren't in their science class, Renji. Were you skipping?"

Yanagi turned red. "No! I had some . . . business to take care of."

Seeming dismayed, Marui inquired, "You've been copying Inui's freaky potions, haven't you?"

"Would you care to try it?"

"_No!_"

They were all returning to normal, but I was confused. Jackal would never keep any secrets from us. From what Yanagi and Sanada had said, it was something big.

I knew Jackal was the most honest person in the group. It was impossible he didn't say anything. "Didn't Jackal-senpai tell you guys anything?"

Marui shook his head. "Not them. He didn't tell me much either. Then again, that's hardly surprisingly," he added wryly. When he saw my confused expression, he explained, "Jackal and I got into a disagreement a few days ago. About . . ." He trailed off.

It dawned on me. "You said he didn't tell you much. But he told you something?"

Marui shifted uncomfortably. "It was nothing, really," he offered. "Just some family stuff. Finances, conveniences, etcetera. I'm sure it doesn't have to do with anything."

But the troubled expression he wore told me he wasn't telling the whole truth.


	3. II

"Bye," I called, waving wildly. Sanada and Yukimura smiled – well, Mura-buchou smiled. Sanada just kind of stood there with that stone face of his. I heard him whisper something to Yukimura, sounding worried. Yukimura hissed something in reply, and then tossed me another blinding smile.

"See you tomorrow, Akaya," Yukimura answered happily, albeit hoarsely. His voice seemed strained.

_Wow; what Sanada-san said must have been serious._

"Math homework and reading homework and science homework and history homework and . . . ," I grumbled to myself, sulking the entire way home. "Takako-sensei's project and Banda-sensei's essay and Fujiwara-sensei's assignment and Yumi-sensei's drafts; damn them all to hell." Really. What the hell do _they _get out of torturing students with homework? A paycheck? I'd pay them twice that amount to do the opposite.

_Wait, no I wouldn't. I still need to buy that Cyclops Majesty video game._

I was in the park, taking the long way home. There was nothing I hated more than homework, and nothing I loved more than putting it off. Though eavesdropping on innocent civilians' conversations was a nice bonus as well. There were idiots of all kinds in the Kanagawa Grand Park.

"Is that what you want, Natsume? Then fine! It's over!" _Poor, retarded couples._

"We've known each other, been best friends for years, and you're ditching me for _her?_" _Mentally challenged buddies._

"We could've won that game, man. You spoiled it all for us!" _Sore losers. Hey, didn't I beat that guy six games to love last week?_

"What the hell is your problem, Jackal? Why don't you show some freaking backbone?" _Say what? _

I whirled around, and sure enough, found myself just yards away from two certain tennis players. Quickly, I dashed behind a bush, ignoring the amused and bewildered stares of bystanders.

"It's not that easy, Marui. Everything has been decided. Tokyo is much too far away." Confused, I listened for more.

"No! No, it's not." Marui choked on his words, taking a dangerous step closer to his doubles partner. "Goddamn it, it's not. You have no idea how this is going to affect everyone else, do you? This team has suffered enough, and there's more to freaking come. We don't need your problems added to it. Why can't you stand up to them for once?" _Marui-senpai never shouts like that._

Jackal's posture was stiff as he muttered, "It's not a matter of defying my parents."

"Good Lord, when you put it like that –"

"It doesn't matter! I can't change any of this. You don't get it."

"_You _don't get it! With Mura's condition, I –" He stopped short. _Condition? What condition?_

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but the decision has been made. I can't go against my family now; we've registered, we've taken care of all the necessary procedures. And besides, the curriculum is –"

"_I don't give a damn about the curriculum!"_

Marui seemed dangerously close to throwing a punch, but seemed to think better of it and stalked away instead. To say I was alarmed would be a major understatement. This was the first clue I had to Jackal-senpai's mysterious situation, and now I knew something else: Marui was in on it, or at least had some vague idea of what was going to happen.

"Don't be like this." Jackal's voice was pleading now, but he did not attempt to follow Marui.

Quietly, I slipped away, unnoticed.

**--**

"Renji," my father murmured. "I need to speak to you."

I looked up from my experiment. "Can it wait? This is going to explode any second now, and . . ."

"No. It can't."

Startled, I followed him to the living room. "What is it?"

The living room was beautiful, large, and elegant as always. Throw rugs and antique tables accented the room, while a calligraphy decorated the walls. But somehow, something seemed missing. "Where's the Korin Vase?"

The vase was a family antique that had been passed from father to son for years. I had no idea of its worth, but I was willing to guess it ranged somewhere from ten thousand to fifty thousand.

"That's the problem," he said slowly. "There's been a robbery. And our bank accounts were hacked. I didn't tell you this; your mother didn't want me to. But there's been a problem with your uncle's insurance and some other things." He took a deep breath to stop his rambling. "We're having some financial issues."

My breath caught in my throat. "Then . . ."

"Your friend has offered to take us in until we get these problems fixed. We're going back to Tokyo for the year; it'll be best for the entire family."

Somehow, the explosion that sounded in my room didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

**--**

I stormed into the house, threw my bag on the floor, whipped an apple at the wall, and stomped up the stairs into my room. Whispering followed, and I never hated my family more than I did then. "Damn it; shut up!" I roared, my voice shaking with fury. The whispering ceased.

I knew I wasn't supposed to talk to my elders like that, but at that moment, I really didn't care.

A few minutes later, one of my younger brothers crept inside.

"Nii-san?" Tasuke squeaked. "Bunta-nii-san, are you okay?"

Not wanting to scare him, I forced a grin as I answered, "Fine, perfectly fine." I held out my arms. "Hug?" I really needed one.

Little Tasuke dashed into them, and at that moment I knew he had just as bad a day as I did. "What's wrong, nii-san?"

"Nii-san is going through a tough time," I answered quietly.

"It's Mura-san and Jackal-san," he mumbled into my shirt, "right?"

"Yeah, you're right. They're going to be . . . gone for a while."

Tasuke looked up, his wide, violet eyes begging for more information. But instead, he said, "I'm going through a tough time too. I'm always alone."

I smiled down at him. "No, you're not. You have plenty of friends."

"They don't _get _me," he complained. "Only one or two of them do, and we're not even friends anymore. I never had to pretend with Eichi-kun, but we don't talk anymore."

Surprised, I inquired, "What happened to him?"

"He's just . . . gone, I guess. He's gone. I have friends, but I'm alone," said Tasuke, sounding a whole lot more mature than he usually did.

"Me too." I smiled again, but this smile was sadder, more depressed. I felt such pity, but I didn't know whether it was pity for me or my little brother. "You know something? We're more alike than I thought."


	4. III

* * *

I paced in my room, ignoring the screeches of my neighbor's cat outside. Screw that cat. I took a notebook and hurled it out the window. Then I peeked.

Apparently, the cat dodged it, but I could care less. Stupid spotted tabby with freaky amber eyes . . .

Anyway.

What was going on? Why was Marui-senpai so angry? Why did Jackal-senpai look so sad? What's Mura-buchou's 'condition'? Why is no one telling me anything?The first answer that came to mind was that they didn't like me, but I pushed that out of his mind. Who wouldn't like a psychotic high school student who behaved like a six year old?

My eyes wandered to my homework assignments. The unfinished ones. The ones that were due the very next day and—_stop._ There were more important things to worry about.

"I need to play detective for a while."

I looked up with determination. "And all good detectives do one thing."

Spy.

**--**

"Masaharu!" my grandfather called. "Time for lunch!"

"Be right there!" I drawled, staring at the bag of white powder on my desk. Should I?

No, I wasn't ready yet. I definitely wasn't ready yet. I shuddered slightly, unable to imagine myself taking _that. _It was inhuman, almost. I was above it. I was above it. Yes, I was above it . . . .

What was happening to me?

Instead, I grabbed a bottle of alcohol and drank it all in a gulp. Slamming the bottle down, I forced myself to catch my breath. "Be right there," I repeated, more softly this time.

What was happening to me?

I threw a glance at the case of alcohol hidden beneath my bed. Luckily, my room was so messy that no one except me ever entered. Then again, I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or worried. Of course, I didn't want anyone to find out. If they did, they'd take it all away from me.

Take it away from me . . . the only escape I had . . . No. I couldn't let them. I wouldn't let them. I needed it.

What was happening to me?

Quickly, I opened another bottle and swallowed some. The acidic burning in my throat managed to soothe me somewhat. Yes, I could forget. I could forget it all. I never needed to remember anything again. I could start over.

I was woozy now, feeling dizzy. I forced myself to walk downstairs, as steadily as I could.

What was happening to me?

**--**

"Do you think he figured it out?" Yukimura whispered. His hands were shaking. It was a terrifying sight. "No one must know."

I shook my head. "Akaya never was very perceptive."

Laughing softly, Yukimura murmured agreement. But the laugh was quiet, was weak, was scared. I was horrified, seeing my once strong captain in such a state. How could this have happened?

He must have noticed my expression, because Yukimura said, "I'm scared. I'm scared, I'm so scared."

Tears fell, tears that could not be controlled.

"You'll be fine," I assured. Was I assuring him or myself? That was a question I didn't want to answer. "I'm sure it'll go away soon. You're probably just overreacting."

"No," he insisted, his voice coming out harsher than expected. "No, Sanada. I went online. I went to the library. I did so much research, and . . ." His body shook with sobs. "It's real." His eyes were wide with fear. "All the symptoms—they apply. Sanada. This operation, it has such a low survival rate. I don't even know if it'll help. People who got the operation . . . their minds were damaged. Their minds were damaged . . . Damn it, Sanada, I'm already halfway there."

Grabbing my friend by the shoulders, I answered, "You have to calm down. We don't even know if you really have this illness yet. _That's why we're here. _Forget about the operation for now." Don't remind of it . . . let me forget . . . .

"I couldn't tell my family," Yukimura continued in a weak whisper, ignoring me. "I couldn't tell them. They'd have been so worried. I scared them once . . . I couldn't do it again. I couldn't do it again. I couldn't do it. I-I couldn't." He began crying again.

What to do, what to do? I was panicking now as well. "Yukimura!" Raising one arm, I hit him with such a blow that it snapped Yukimura out of his tears. Yukimura stared at me in shock. "Calm down."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay."

"You'll be fine," I repeated.

_Please, Lord, let it be true. _

**--**

"Jackal?" I asked hesitantly. "Will you meet me at the park?"

Tasuke gave me a thumbs up. "Go, Bunta-nii!" I smiled at him, feeling a renewed sense of hope. I could make this work.

**--**

I hid behind the same bush I had a while ago. Stalking Marui for two hours had really helped; Marui had left the house, muttering something about Jackal and his 'bald, brainless head'. Normally I would have laughed, but somehow, the situation was much too serious. Even for me.

Now the two doubles partners stared at each other, neither speaking.

"Can't we work something out?" Marui finally pleaded.

_Work what out?_

"It's been decided." Jackal tried to look exasperated, but the way his voice was shaking gave him away. He hated this just as much as Marui did, whatever it was.

"B-but . . . I don't want you to move to Tokyo!" Marui burst out, clenching his fists.

"Oh my God," I whispered from my hiding place, unable to move. He was joking. Marui liked to joke. Yes, that's what it was.

"Do you have any idea how this going to affect the rest of us? We're having enough problems of our own! We don't need yours added to the bunch." He looked up with pleading eyes. "You don't get it. I'm going to be alone. There's no one left to talk to."

No. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. A nightmare.

"Seigaku sucks," he continued. "Why can't you stay? The team will fall apart without you, and it's – it's not fair! It's not—" He quickly stopped shouting, because I had revealed myself.

I stepped out from the bush, feeling numb, staring at both my seniors in shock. "Jackal-senpai is moving?" I whispered. My voice was small, a squeak. I didn't recognize it.

"Wait—" Jackal moved to console me. Marui was frozen, violet eyes wide with astonishment and fear.

I didn't need consolation! I didn't want it. What did I want?

I didn't know.

I slapped his hand away and ran. "_I hate you!" _I screamed. "_I hate you both!" _I turned around and ran.

* * *

Hey! I'm so sorry; I had to delay the update because I wrote the whole thing in third person instead of first person, and had to go over the whole thing. If I missed anything, do tell!


	5. IV

This is awfully short. I'm sos sorry for taking so long to update! I spent all my time studying (I have SHSATs) and haven't even replied to some of my reviews from two weeks ago. Many apologies, everyone! I swear I'll try to make it up to you all in the next chapter. In the meantime, please enjoy. I hope the point-of-view change is a bit more obvious in this chapter.

* * *

"Yagyuu. Is something wrong?"

"Things turned out quite strangely, didn't they?" I mused, gently setting down my cup of tea.

My sister smiled at me. "I'm sure it's nothing you cannot resolve."

I frowned. "Well, I doubt that. I suspected Niou-kun was resorting to . . . _other uses_ quite a while ago, but he's been skipping class quite a lot lately. I hope it doesn't get out of control."

"Why don't you help him, then?" she asked softly. "You are perfectly capable of doing so." She blew gently, watching the steam rise into the air with a calm sort of serenity. I admired her for that.

"I don't think there is anything I can do," I answered stiffly.

"Really?" She flared up. "I know Niou-kun quite well! He's a great person, if not a bit mischievous. And you two have always been inseparable. What happened?"

"Nothing," I said tartly. "Nothing. Niou just needs to get his priorities straightened. Now, if you'll excuse me."

On my way out of the house, I heard her mumble, "My, my. Didn't use –kun this time, eh?"

**--**

"AKAYA! DO YOUR HOMEWORK!"

I disregarded my mother's screams and the angry howling of my neighbor's cat. Don't ask me how a cat can howl. I think I mentioned it before; that cat is a demon, I tell you. "I'll do it in a second," I called back absentmindedly.

"You've been saying that for nearly an hour. What in God's name are you doing up there?"

I ignored her question and stuck a pencil in my mouth. I had a lot to think about. Having gotten through the initial shock of Jackal-senpai's moving, I decided the best thing to do in such a situation was to formulate a plan.

My homework looked me in the eye. "Akaya. You know you must finish this algebraic equation."

I took the wet pencil and stabbed the textbook. What to do, what to do . . .

It occurred to me that the pencil I stabbed my textbook with would have been more useful had I stabbed the cat with it. Damn it, what a waste. A perfectly good stick of wood, gone. Wasted on math. Now, who was good at math? Hopefully willing to do my homework for me . . . .

Aha! I jumped up with excitement. Maybe Mura-buchou would know what to do! I resolved to ask him tomorrow, if he had any advice. "Hmm, too bad," I mumbled to myself. "He seemed kind of sick the other day . . . Maybe he's got the flu?" I sighed. "Everyone's getting sick these days. Niou was reeling in practice the other day."

**--**

I was very disturbed.

"Please, Renji, don't be upset. It's for your own good, and for the good of your family. We must move."

I nodded slowly. "Say I got a few extra jobs. Would that help the matter?" After fifteen years of experience, I knew better than to approach the situation with panic.

"That's illogical, and even you know that," my uncle answered wryly.

"'Even'?" I asked, upset. "Are you insinuating the completely untrue statement that I am illogical? I take quite a lot of offense to that."

He laughed. "No, that's not what I meant at all. But this is a serious matter."

"It is," I agreed, sadly. "There must be another solution. Maybe we could borrow some money from the Atobe Corporation or something. And there's that tennis competition—the prize money is ten thousand dollars. Yes, that's got to help—!"

"No," my uncle insisted firmly. "We will not borrow money. It is strictly against the family rules. And there is _not _enough time to enter a competition. Besides, if you lose, you'd only waste precious time. We must leave immediately."

"'Precious time'?" I echoed. I was alarmed at this point."What do you—"

"It's . . . nothing," he answered lamely. "Renji, go to your room and pack. We will discuss this later."

I was disappointed, but I followed his orders. Besides, there was a higher chance of my finding a solution without his nagging.


	6. V

Hope I updated quickly enough. Do enjoy.

* * *

I walked in the school courtyard, ignoring the frantic whispers of my classmates.

"Did you hear? Kirihara-senpai sent a junior to the hospital with his Knuckle Serve again!" a student hissed.

"I heard he broke his nose!"

Another student interjected, "I heard the junior was sent to the hospital in an ambulance. He had, like, eighty thousand fractures."

"That's Kirihara-senpai for you."

How dare they exaggerate? I only broke his leg. Giving them a glare, I continued my walk to the tennis courts. Yukimura and Sanada wanted to talk to the tennis team. The meeting wasn't for another three hours, but I wanted to be early. Besides, Mura-buchou was someone I could sympathize with.

What was it that Mura-buchou wanted anyway? He seemed upset yesterday. Or maybe that was Sanada . . . Bleh. I knew vegetables were bad for the human mind.

I put it out of his mind. Surely it was nothing important. Probably another pep talk. Nothing could possibly ruin my day.

**--**

I was helping Jackal pack.

"Marui, don't be so glum," he chastised. "This is a good opportunity. Tokyo has—"

"I don't care," I snapped, and shoved another tennis ball into the big cardboard box in front of me. Hard. I think I squished it.

"You know this is out of my control!" Jackal snapped. "You think I want to move to Tokyo?" He rarely lost his temper, but I couldn't care less. I was too busy with my own problems.

"You could have at least _tried _to stand up for yourself!" I retorted, slamming one of his tennis racquets into the box. Then I picked it up again and held it tightly. It was a blue titanium racquet. In marker, it read on the side, 'Rikkai Forever'. "Do you remember this?" My voice was bitter, tinged with sorrow.

Jackal looked up. "Yeah, I do," he said quietly.

"I gave this to you the day we tried out for the tennis team together. For good luck." I squeezed the handle.

He nodded slowly.

"I didn't know you had kept it," I continued.

"It meant a lot to me," he answered, gently setting it down. "Marui—"

"It's okay," I said softly, and dumped a sack of tennis balls into the box.

We finished packing the rest of his belongings in silence.

**--**

Yanagi Renji was not a thief. However, on this one occasion, I thought it might be a good idea to spy. Admittedly, I was still a bit suspicious of what he had said last night. There had to be something he knew. Something he wasn't telling me. Maybe something that would allow us to stay in Kanagawa.

I quietly snuck into my uncle's room. He was fast asleep. This was the perfect opportunity. Of course, I had to make this fast—I was to meet Yukimura and Sanada at the courts in about two hours and forty minutes.

Quickly, I opened his drawer and looked through it. There were a few thumbtacks, a deck of cards, some sleeping pills, and a checkbook. Nothing suspicious.

Then I noticed a small white envelope on his bookshelf. It was carefully hidden, put between two thick novels. But the corner of the envelope stuck out. _Amateur_, I thought to myself triumphantly, and dashed back into my own room with the envelope in my pocket.

**--**

I was, perhaps for the first time in my life, frightened. Being the assistant captain wasn't easy, especially when the said assistant captain was in on a fatal secret.

I knew Yukimura's condition was growing worse. It wasn't just about his tennis game this time—the disease might as well be fatal, and leave him immobilized. And yet, he didn't want to tell anybody! That was immature, and it was eating away at me. At least he was going to confess today. How would the team accept it? I suspected most of them had problems of their own this year. Marui seemed very depressed lately, and Renji was acting paranoid. Akaya was acting nosy, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

I sighed. I didn't want this team to fall apart. No, not now . . . Not ever.

Looking at my gold medal, I frowned. My team had won that medal last year. It used make me proud, seeing my name, Sanada, on that medal. It used to make me smile. It symbolized our success.

But now, it symbolized what the entire team risked losing.

I changed into my uniform and walked out the door.


	7. VI

I tried to make this chapter longer, to make up for my ultra-short previous chapters. I do hope you enjoy.

Just in case some of you will end up confused, a terminal illness is a permanent illness, one that won't go away. It's most commonly used to describe cancer, and usually progressive diseases rather than trauma. I learned about it when I was reading _And Then There Were None_.

* * *

"Why'd you stop me?" I asked my cousin, though I was perfectly aware of the reason. "I'm in a hurry. Yukimura is expecting me, and I cannot afford to be late."

"Hiroshi, something is wrong. You're not leaving this house until I know what's going on. What is it?"

I knew my cousin meant well, but sometimes her questions could grow annoying. "It's nothing, Aya."

"Your expression is strained," she noted softly, "and your posture is stiff. Come now, Hiroshi. It's Niou-kun, isn't it?"

"What about him?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"You're worried," she told me. "You suspect something, but you don't know if it's true. You're unwilling to share it with anyone else for his sake. You think he can overcome whatever it is—psychological or physical—but you have your doubts."

I was startled. "With all due respect, my dear Aya," I said, feigning a laugh, "your suspicions are absolutely incorrect. I am forever grateful for your kindness and compassion, but in this case you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

She knew I was lying.

"I've known you since you were born," she reminded me. "I am also three years older than you. You can't deny this. Why don't you tell me what you saw, and maybe we can work it out together?"

"What I saw? I didn't see anything—" Her sympathetic smile cut me off. There was no denying it now. "Fine. But I have to leave soon, so I must make this quick."

She nodded understandingly. "Go on."

I sighed. "Is there any way you'd leave, satisfied, without an answer?" My voice was pleading now.

"No," she answered firmly. "Your life is as important as anyone's. You must tell me this."

"I saw him the other day," I finally admitted. "He was with one of the college seniors. Actually, I'm not sure. He must have been a senior, because he was wearing the uniform and the badge, but I had never seen him before. Anyway, Niou was with him. The senior gave him something—I think it was a false ID. And another thing: He gave Niou a small brown bag. I'm not sure what was in it, but—"

"But you think you know," she whispered.

"Yes."

**--**

My head was still woozy, but I forced myself up. I already had a reputation for being the Trickster—I didn't want one for being tardy as well.

"Hangovers," I grumbled, shoving my covers aside and jumping out of bed. I instantly fell to the floor, holding my head in pain. How long had I slept?

A quick glance at the clock gave me my answer—and another headache.

"Fifteen hours," I said to myself wryly. I was lucky it was a weekend.

Sanada wanted to talk to the team or something. I remembered that much, but his face was fuzzy . . . and I couldn't quite remember where we were meeting.

_Where am I?_

I shook my head. This was getting on my nerves. Quickly, I grabbed a bundle of clothes and threw them on. My gaze wandered to my desk. Hidden in the back were a few bottles of alcohol. Five or six? Did I drink that all last night?

I staggered to the door, taking a tennis racquet with me to avoid suspicion. After all, I could always pretend I was practicing swings in my room. My breath. Did that reek of alcohol too?

I stumbled my way into the bathroom and brushed my teeth a few dozen times. By the eighth, I noticed that bag of white powder again. It stood there, so innocent, mocking me. Too scared was I to take it.

How had I gotten it, anyway? Who gave it to me?

And what exactly did I intend to do with it? Not even I knew.

**--**

"Good afternoon, senpai-tachi!" I cheered, bouncing into the courts. Yukimura-buchou welcomed me with a smile, Jackal nodded, Marui-senpai welcomed me with a punch on the arm, and Yagyuu scolded me for being rowdy. Everything was fine.

However, Niou-senpai seemed rather faint.

I greeted him with a kick to the ankle as I always did, but instead of giving me a roundhouse kick in return, he flinched and nearly toppled to the floor. "Do you mind?" he snapped. I backed away at the harshness of his voice. There wasn't any humor in it at all.

"Sorry," I mumbled, and shuffled away.

Yukimura smiled warmly, but I was getting worried. Niou didn't usually react like that, and he seemed paler than usual. Sanada looked disturbed as well.

I shook it away. Maybe I was seeing things? Cheering up, I inquired, "Why did you call us here, Mura-buchou?"

He smiled again, but this time his expression seemed hollow. The godly, sadistic grin had vanished.

Yes, I was definitely seeing things.

"Let's wait until everyone else is here," he suggested. Everyone else bought the excuse, but I thought he was stalling.

Who was missing?

Ah, yes. Yanagi-senpai.

"Sorry I'm late," he shouted from the entrance, running over to us. Speak of the devil, and he shall cometh. "I had to . . . do a little research before I left the house." He was clearly unwilling to share any more information.

"So?" I prompted. "What is it, Mura-buchou?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sanada stiffen.

Yukimura hesitated, then blurted out, "I might have a terminal illness."


	8. VII

I took, like, two years to update. Seriously.

I'm really sorry—I forgot I had another test to take. This is the time of year where children cry, tear their hair out, and scream. It is what we call hell. Again, many apologies. I hope this chapter is longer. As compensation, I sort of dramatized this entire chapter. Hope you love the angst.

* * *

Even though Yukimura had already told me, I was shocked. I felt my posture stiffen, felt my knees quake, felt my mouth dry. My teammates stared at me, eyes begging for an explanation. Just then, I didn't want to be the assistant captain.

Akaya was as ridiculously childish as ever. "What's a tremulous illness?" he asked blankly.

I think the entire team would have fainted right there had the situation not been so serious. I shook my head slowly. Akaya stared at me. "Sanada-fukubuchou? What is it?"

"It's a disease that won't go away, Akaya," Marui said quietly. "It's commonly used to refer to illnesses like cancer." His blazing violet eyes landed on Yukimura, as if he wanted to blame him. "What happened?"

By now, Yukimura had regained his posture. His face was once again calm, his eyes once again icy, his aura once again regal. "It may be recurring," he replied coolly. I doubted the others noticed, but standing next to him, I could see that his hand was shaking. "My doctor said it is an over deal of stress dealt to the mind. That combined with my previous illness probably led to this."

"But some cancers can be cured," Yanagi interrupted. He spoke quickly, efficiently. "Don't contradict me, Yukimura. You do know that many cancers can be cured. And we can find a hospital—Oishi's uncle from Seigaku is a famed doctor, I believe—and The Hospital of Japan is sure to—"

"Yanagi, stop." Yukimura was as brisk as ever. He smiled a reassuring smile. "My family is informed," he said as Yagyuu opened his mouth. Immediately, Yagyuu closed it again. Normally, I'd be stunned by my captain's instincts, but again, the situation was much too serious. "We will do what we can. I have called this meeting so we can discuss the team's stability, not so you can all offer me your sympathy and pity. Now—"

"Mura-buchou." Akaya's soft whisper cut him off. "How long have you known this?"

Yukimura hesitated. I cut in, "Akaya! Don't speak to your seniors that way. Yukimura is going through a difficult time and the least you could do is show some respect!"

"Sanada, it's fine." The delicate athlete seemed more fragile than ever, and his voice was resigned as he spoke. Turning to Akaya, he said, "I've suspected it for nearly two months now. I found out a few weeks back."

"And Sanada?" Akaya demanded, forgetting his manners altogether. "How long have you known?"

I sighed. "Yukimura confided in me little over a month ago."

For once, Akaya seemed confused. Then his confusion turned into outrage. He drew a breath and prepared to speak.

**--**

Yeah, I was pissed off.

So many secrets, there were so many secrets. There was the whole Jackal predicament, and now Yukimura. I was Jackal's doubles partner, Yukimura's close friend. We were a family. We all were. And now . . . ?

Akaya was preparing to speak, and I had no idea what was going to fly out of his mouth.

"Anyone else?"

I stared at the junior in shock.

"Anyone else?" Akaya repeated angrily. "Come on, everyone here has something to hide. Get it over with, damn it. Say it!" His voice cracked slightly.

No one spoke.

"Fine!" His piercing green eyes scanned all of our faces, and I supposed he determined us all to be guilty. "You won't say anything? I'll start things off, then."

"Akaya, respect," Yagyuu reprimanded quietly. "Remember Yukimura is ill. Let us all try to calm ourselves down. I understand this is difficult to comprehend."

I wanted to tell Yagyuu that his language was just as hard to comprehend, but I suspected dry humor was the last thing this team needed at the moment.

"Jackal-senpai is moving away!" Akaya announced, ignoring Yagyuu's comment. "And Marui-senpai knew."

The team's attention turned to us, and I cursed the junior ace in my mind.

"That's not exactly how I was planning to break the news to you all," Jackal said awkwardly. "See, I only found out about the moving recently—"

I knew better, but I couldn't help it. I was caught up in the moment, and I guess my anger and frustration had been cumulating. "Recently?" I asked. "_Recently? _You've known for just as long as Sanada has known of Yukimura's illness, admit it. Admit it! You _want _to leave, don't you?"

Jackal turned to me. "Marui, you know that's not it . . ."

Yanagi broke into the conversation. "Akaya's right," he began, and pulled out an envelope. "It turns out my family is moving too. The reasons were not specified, so I sneaked into my uncle's room while he was sleeping today, just before I left. I found this." He opened the envelope and revealed a scrap of paper, filled with numbers and letters.

I stared at it, eager to turn my attention away from Jackal. "What is that?"

"It's the code to my parents' account," he explained. "I don't know how he found it. The code is known by no one but my mother and father. I didn't even know, but this must be the code. He's been stealing from my family's account."

"Financial issues, Yanagi?" Yukimura said this softly. "Perhaps we could help."

"You can't." He shook his head. "You have no idea how much money has been stolen. But it is absolutely illogical that my uncle is spending the money on himself. I suspect there's more to it."

I was stunned, to say the least. Jackal and I exchanged a look, and briefly, I forgot our argument.

There was silence, then Yagyuu spoke.

"Well?" He was staring at Niou, but it was more of a glare than a stare. Even through his abnormally reflective glasses, I could see his livid gaze. "Are you going to tell them?"

Niou looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." Yagyuu took a step toward him and announced, "I saw Niou-kun the other day with a supposed senior. He bought a false ID and something else." Once again, he fixed his eyes on Niou. "Care to tell them what it was, Niou-kun?" I had never seen Yagyuu react so angrily, and never seen him use any voice aside from his 'Would you like to have some tea?' voice. That day, Yagyuu seemed almost . . . human.

Niou shook his head, his devilish flicker dying. His voice was flat, expressionless, and his face was blank. "You don't trust me." This was a statement, not a question, and he turned away again.

"This isn't fair."

Seven pairs of eyes stared at Akaya, who was staring down at his sneakers. His eyes were huge, but they were also hard like coal, and lacked expression. Through all the confessions, Akaya had said nothing. And now he uttered three words, three that defined each crime, betrayal, and drop of hurt. He uttered them again and again, and I couldn't help but sympathize with him.

"This isn't fair."


	9. VIII

I made a lot of references to the sun, I noticed.

Please, punch me. I deserve it. Seriously! How many months did I take to update? My answer is a lot. I suspect I've lost around five-sixths of my readers, but I'm hoping that if I update more often I'll win them back eventually. And if you're reading this now, I hope you enjoy it. I've been so busy recently, with the SHSAT and the midterms and the school dramas. If you doubt the drama part, let me just say, I had my heart broken twice in the past five months. I lost them both to pride, I think.

Sorry for setting such a gloomy mood; enjoy!

* * *

The sun shone upon the Yagyuu household, but shadows enveloped my room, the section of it that was mine. Darkness could withstand all odds these days.

I wasn't quite sure what I said. I rebuked Niou-kun in public, I think. Did I? Or did I not? I didn't know anymore.

I felt numb.

Sitting on my bed in my room, I began to realize the true extent of it all. Yukimura was going to die, Sanada knew about it and didn't tell us, Jackal was moving away, Marui had broken everything off with him, Yanagi was in a financial predicament . . . I laughed ruefully. Kind of heartless of the heavens, wasn't it, to have all these problems come and bite us now. Suddenly, the sun seemed to be very bleak and dull.

RikkaiDai, we climb higher everyday, and then something will force us back down. I found myself hating life for just an instant. My logic and cool temperament, I realized, had abandoned me in this moment of need. Just like everything and everyone else had.

"Hiroshi?" my cousin called from downstairs. "We're having dinner. Won't you join us?" Her voice was hopeful as she tried to cheer me. "Remember that enormous shopping list that Mother gave us?" Forced laughter. "Well, that list is basically our dinner today."

I hadn't finished my list; I had a long list too. There was Niou. Dear Kami-sama, didn't he _care . . ._? I wasn't sure if I wanted the answer to that question. Hope had left this team ages ago, and we had only just noticed it.

"Hiroshi?"

I don't think she expected an answer from me, though I imagine she was disappointed anyway. Nonetheless, she left me to ponder.

Oh, but there wasn't much to ponder.

There was something about suspecting a person of a certain thing, and then there was facing it, letting it slap your face like a cruel zephyr. He really did buy those, didn't he? They were probably resting on his desk, haunting him, taunting him, and he might as well have been standing before them, watching them.

* * *

There was something about being suspected about a certain thing, and then there was realizing it, letting it slap your face like a cruel wind. I really did buy those. They rested on my desk, haunted me, taunted me, and I stood before them, watching them.

Yagyuu was right. He usually was.

I tried taking a step away from that wretched little paper bag, and realized I had taken a step forward instead.

Wryly, though miserably, I noticed the irony of this situation. Moving a step forward was supposed to be a positive thing.

So why, why, was this so negative? I couldn't approach that bag. It'd hurt me. I wouldn't be able to resist it, would I? What would I do with it?

My foolishness and idiocy (which I now recognized) angered me. There everyone was, with their own problems while I drowned in my own self-pity. I hated myself more when I realized none of their problems were self-caused.

I brought this upon myself. Now I needed to get rid of it.

Suddenly the opening of the bag seemed like a mouth, the rigged edges seemed like teeth, and it came closer, closer, closer . . .

I cowered in fear. _What happened to the Niou on the courts? _I demanded silently. And then I knew the answer.

That Niou—he had left this pathetic excuse for a soul long ago. He left when this _thing, _I, arrived.

And now, was there any turning back?

Infuriated, fearful and fearless, I grabbed the bag and hurled it against a wall. The bag hit it, then bounced back toward me.

An omen?

Looking at it, I felt as though I had let someone down.

* * *

I felt as though I had let someone down.

"Yukimura," Sanada began, "there must be something you can do. No disease is incurable. There must be something—we'll do research. We might even discover something new. We—"

"There is a cure," I cut in.

Sanada looked up immediately, an expression of joy, hope, a boyish enjoyment.

"But it doesn't have a great chance of succeeding."

"You mean the survival rate is low?" Sanada asked, alarmed.

"No, it had a very high survival rate," I answered absentmindedly. "Very few have died from the operation. But there is another factor. You see, victim of this syndrome have their body-mind coordination distinctly lowered. The doctor said it's this unique disease of the brain, very rare. The virus can be removed easily."

He jumped up. "Didn't you tell your family this? If it has such a high survival rate, then why waste any time?" he demanded.

_Sanada, Sanada, _I thought sadly, _always so rash and quick to act. If only you knew . . . _But that day's meeting had taught me the error of lies.

I was coming clean this time.

"The elimination of this virus will still leave a minor virus. That virus won't harm me physically, but it will mentally. It's a tumor of sorts, I think. I'm not sure. It inhabits the part of the brain that keeps one's memories."

His expression clouded then cleared again. "You'd lose your memories."

I nodded. "The virus can spread. It would eventually reach the other parts of my mind, and I'd lose control of my body, emotions, etcetera. I'd lose the ability to speak and move, among other things." I said this casually, and did not dare to meet my vice captain's eyes.

"But the virus is only minor."

"It's minor at first. It'll remain dormant for weeks, months, years, even. If the operation goes slightly wrong, of course, it'll take place much sooner, but that's unlikely. Yes, it'll remain dormant, but then it'll spring."

"Is there a cure to _that?_"

I sighed. "There are two. One of them requires a strong, emotional trigger, but that rarely happens, and its chance of success is low. The other is an operation. The patient would risk being turned into a vegetable, and the survival rate is slim to none, as it was just developed."

"Can't we wait until it develops, and then—?"

Shaking my head, I contradicted, "The virus I have now acts fast." My voice shook ever so slightly. I don't think Sanada noticed. "I'm afraid there won't be time."

He sat back down, torn between comforting me and solving a paradox. I think he knew that both were impossible to do.

* * *

It seemed as though everything was impossible to do. But defying the definite had always been in my nature.

For an instant, I looked up at the sky, stared directly into the sun, and didn't blink. "I'm Kirihara Akaya!" I shouted at it. "I'm invincible! You can't do anything to stop me, or anyone else. We're RikkaiDai! We're almighty! We . . ." I trailed off, and slouched down in my chair.

The sun warmed my room to comfort me. Or maybe to warn me.

Ah, there was only a letter's difference between 'warm' and 'warn.'

Faintly, I remembered when I heard Marui try to compromise with Jackal. It was moving. It was hopeful. It almost worked. I had never tried to compromise before, and yet at that moment I supported it. What a strange thing hopelessness and helplessness could do to a person. I had always lived by the rule, "Survival of the fittest." If compromising were to work at that moment, I had no doubt I would use it.

I deemed it impossible.

"Akaya?" It was the sound of my mother. Her voice had miraculously changed from crude to pure, from loud to soft, from angry to sad. She sounded like a fallen angel, and a suspected that was what she was. "Are- are you alright?" I realized that I had never given my mother the time of day, that I had never let her enough into my life to care.

"No," I answered quietly. I don't think she heard me, and at the moment I didn't care. I longed for a mother's love, for a friend's love. Both were within my grasp, but I could have neither.

My mind traced its way a few years back, and I remembered when my mother told me in that same, beautiful voice, that happiness would reach me. That all I had to do was let it.

Wasn't I letting it now?

The sun's rays kissed my cheek, then seared it. I looked at it sadly, feeling betrayed, helpless. Would the Gods turn their back on me now? After everything I had done for them, after what they have done for me . . . I felt close to them. I felt as though they were the only ones I could relate to. As though I could trust them.

The sun burned me some more, and I was forced to look away.

_Kami-sama, _I prayed, _show me hope. Give me a sign, I beg of you._

And just then, it began to rain.


	10. IX

I'm sorry, but this story is going to have to be put on hold for a while. My parents are having these... problems, I guess. I think they might be divorcing, and life's been really hectic around here. I'll update as soon as I can, but for now this issue is my number one priority. I hope you understand.

Please enjoy this chapter. I know it's one of my shorter chapters, and I promise I'll try to make up for it in the next one.

* * *

We Kiriharas were unique. We had arrogance, talent, determination, looks... We had perseverance and hope. But that was something I was running out of.

It has always been hard, accepting reality. I didn't like it when I lost to Echizen. I didn't like it when I lost in general. Maybe it's the inverse for others, but when the problem is my own, well, it seems so much smaller. I think it's because I know how to deal with it when it's _my _problem. And I know I'll always have support from my family, my friends.

It's so much harder, being the one to have to offer support.

I twirled a pencil with my fingers, watching the golden yellow wood blur. Back and forth, back and forth, more quickly and more quickly each time. It spun in a circle, and for a brief moment, it resembled a sun. I slowed down, and my sun became a pencil once more.

Comfort, I noticed, was harder to offer than to receive.

One never knows exactly what one should say, what one should do. And there were seven people I had to comfort. I didn't know how.

I think I felt a bit betrayed. Duped, almost. After so many years of peace and perfection, Kami-sama picks our last year, our most triumphant year, to destroy.

Destruction usually led to chaos, but we were already in it.

* * *

I busied myself by thinking about how sad the others must have been, and forgot about my own distress for a while. My dark hair fell in my eyes, and I brushed it away with impatience as I continued packing. My clothes, my books, my tennis equipment... My eyes meandered to a photo of the tennis team, arms around each other, with Yukimura and Sanada each holding up an end of the trophy we'd won only a year ago. Akaya was staring at it with delight, clearly unaware of the camera, while Marui and Jackal were laughing, making peace signs. Niou, Yagyuu and I were each helping themselves to a smoothie and merely glanced at the camera as the photo was being taken.

It didn't seem to be much of a big deal at the time, given that it was the third trophy in a row. I shook my head and continued packing.

Looking around my room, I realized there was a lot to pack.

Angrily, I stood up and surveyed my room. Why did we have to leave, anyway? There was comfort in the fact that Jackal would be staying with us, but—but what about everyone else? I couldn't very well take the entire team with me.

Or could I?

I shook the ridiculous thought away and continued packing. I must have been hanging around Akaya too much.

Closing my eyes, I tried to remember how it felt to be so free.

* * *

Eating when you're upset was usually a woman's thing, but I had learned to adapt it. For once, I didn't care if my magenta hair was stained with ice cream and chocolate. I wanted to eat away my troubles and let the ice cream do the rest.

"Bunta! Where are you?" my brother called.

"I'm not home!" I answered in reply, then realized that wasn't the smartest thing to say.

A few seconds later my sibling came bounding into the kitchen and announced, "I just knew you'd be in here." In a softer voice, he added, "You okay? I haven't said anything to Mom and Dad yet, but you seemed sort of..." He hesitated. "Sort of down."

"I'm okay," I assured, and pulled him in for a hug. His hair was just as bright as my own, and I mussed it up a bit. "Just a bit tired, I guess." I bit my lip and tightened my grip on him. "It's not fair." I think he knew I was crying at that point.

"What's no—" He stopped, sensing I wasn't in the mood to talk. Instead, he said, "You're my best friend _ever." _He lowered his eyes, then looked up at me. "You're my hero, nii-san."

I only cried harder.


	11. X

I haven't updated for a while now. A billion apologies, everyone!

* * *

"Seiichi?" His Aunt Hanaka (who preferred to be called by her nonexistent English name Laura) peeked into the room. "Are you all right? You've been in there all day—your mother and I are awfully worried."

Aunt Hanaka was a bit nosy.

I smiled up at her. "I'm fine, Aunt Hanaka. It's nice of you to check up on me." But she paid no attention to my words and instead began looking around my room.

"Call me Aunt _Laura_. Why do you have so many books here? Why are they scattered around your bed? Why is one of the pages folded? Did you clean your room yesterday like I told you to?"

Very nosy.

"I'm fine," I assured, and stacked the books on my bookshelf. "I guess I forgot to clean the mess. Thank you for reminding me."

She huffed. "I should think so." With a trace of worry, she added, "It's unlike you to be so messy. Is something the matter? You've been rather distant recently."

"It's no—" But before I could finish the sentence, a sudden headache consumed me and I collapsed onto the floor. And everything grew dark.

"Seiichi? _Seiichi!_" But the voice grew fainter and fainter. "Oh, wait here, I'll go get your parents right away!"

With a sort of relief, I thought, _At last, they know..._

* * *

_Tennis, _I thought with a renewed sense of confidence, _is great. _Niou and I were playing singles, and as of now it was six games to five, him in the lead. He seemed to be getting his health back. I sighed silently.

While I was thinking, Niou scored an ace. I had to keep my guard up. "Nice one," I called.

He responded with a grin and a thumbs up. "You haven't lost your touch, have you, Hiroshi?"

I pushed up my glasses. "We'll see."

He served again—a quick, clean shot. A perfect time for my Golf Swing. I kept the position, the ball drew nearer—and I swung.

He sent it right back, just one point from winning.

I threw a ball over to him, not wanting to hear him gloat again. "Serve."

But to my surprise, he let the ball fall to the ground. My eyes followed it behind my glasses. "What are you doing? It's your turn to serve. You know that."

"I've got to meet somebody," he answered stiffly.

"You're about to _win. _You never give up a victory," I protested disbelievingly.

He knelt, stuffed his tennis racquet back into his bag and stood again. "See you later."

I watched, suspecting I knew who it was he was about to meet.

* * *

"Akaya! Where are you going?" my mother called. "You haven't cleaned your room yet."

"I want to look for Mura-buchou," I answered absentmindedly, and ran out of the house. Yukimura's neighborhood wasn't very far from mine (which was why I usually ran there whenever Marui and Niou ganged up on me)—I'd be able to walk there easily.

But when I arrived, the house was completely empty. On the other hand, the streets were packed with people, all gathered around the house in earnest.

"What's going on here?" I asked a girl standing next to me.

"Oh, Kiri-chan!" I twitched at the nickname. "It's so nice to see you! How old are you now? Eight, I'll bet!" She tweaked my cheek. In a baby-ish voice she added, "Aren't you a big boy now?"

I twitched again. "What's going on here?" I repeated.

"Oh, an ambulance came not so long ago. Seii-chan fainted, I think. Something about a rare recurring disease." She shrugged. "I'm just here 'cause everyone else is."

My mouth hung open. _I guess his family found out the hard way. _


	12. XI

I am a terrible, horrible, evil, mean, bad, _bad _person for taking so long to post this up and I feel so awfully guilty for it. I would've posted it earlier today but I forgot I had dance lessons, and I would have posted it earlier this month if it weren't for the fact I've been so obsessed with getting my high school results. By the way, I was accepted into New York's best high school, so no more of this drama. Again, I tried to make the story move forward a bit more in this chapter. The previous chapters had the story at a stand-still.

Enjoy.

* * *

"Good morning," I yawned to nobody in particular, and reached for the white envelope I assumed I'd kept concealed under a copy of _Great Expectations. _It wasn't there.

"Yanagi!" my uncle called next door. "Did you say something?"

I was too shocked to respond. Had he taken the envelope? How did he know I had it? I cursed under my breath and snapped, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep, it's only seven AM."

"Young man, you will _not _speak to me like that."

I muttered angry swears and got dressed. Peeking into the keyhole of my uncle's room, I could see that he had gone back to sleep—or was feigning it—and the envelope was nowhere to be found. I panicked. If it wasn't with him, then...

Then I remembered playing tennis with my cousin, bring the envelope with me and stuffing it in my backpack. It had fallen over, and she had helped me gather my belongings. I hadn't checked for it since. "Damn it!" I rarely cursed, but suspected that I had set a whole new record that morning.

* * *

I rarely cursed, but suspected that I had set a whole new record that morning. What a pain! First Jackal called me to tell me to come over. Then I lost my tennis shoes and had to wear dress shoes. Then I lost my comb and had to leave the house looking like a pink haystack. And _then _I lost my candy bar!

Stomping angrily, I mumbled livid things to myself all the way to Jackal's house, trying to ignore the giggles that passers-by were giving me and the growing fatigue in my aching legs. Stupid candy bar, one of my brothers probably took it...

The house was in sight, and I pressed the doorbell a lot harder than I should have.

Jackal's mother opened the door and stared at me for a long moment. I'd visited the Kuwaharas many times, and as far as I could tell they were the warmest and most welcoming family I'd ever met. Watching Jackal's parent stare me down like a criminal was a bit unnerving. "Good morning, ma'am," I said awkwardly, and shuffled my feet. With a jolt, I realized my hasty appearance probably didn't help much, and rushed to smooth my hair.

She nodded to me. "Jackal called you over, I suppose?"

"Yes, miss."

"Your friend is here!" she shouted toward the house, and entered it, not bothering to hold the door open for me. I wondered what had gotten into her as I walked in.

"Yo, Jackal, you there? Need help packing? I knew you were helpless without..." My joke trailed off as I saw Jackal walk into the living room, raising his hand in a brisk greeting. "What's wrong? You look kind of..." I struggled for the right word, "...disheveled."

"You shouldn't be talking," he shot back, but even as I laughed I could see how wrinkled his shirt and shorts were, and how bloodshot his eyes looked. Nothing compared to Akaya's bloodshot stare, but a close second. "It's nothing. Could you help me pack?"

Naturally, I was startled that my prediction was right. Then, realizing that I very rarely did answer questions correctly, I suspected he wanted to talk in private. I agreed wholeheartedly, then added sheepishly, "I don't suppose you have a stash of chocolate in your house?"

* * *

"I don't suppose you have a stash _with _you?" I said tersely—being short on... _supply... _was getting on my nerves, and I couldn't help but fidget in apprehension. "It's been a while."

"Buy some yourself," the senior snapped back, then smirked. "Did you take the stuff yet?"

"No," I said firmly.

"You should." He tossed his head back in laughter. "It's some damn relieving stuff. You might not move around so much once you get it."

I shook my head and looked away. "You know I can't get any liquor. What happened to the case you got?" I glanced around to make sure no one overhead—it was a fairly empty park, and nobody but little children were really there. Besides, we were hidden behind a giant oak tree, though a bit or precaution wouldn't have done any harm.

"I still have it. But we've been short, and delivery's taking a while." He raised his chin and smiled, a wicked smile. "I can get you it, sure. But you'll have to complete a few _tasks, _if you will, for me first."

How _dare _this senior treat me like this! Not even the brat would stand for something like that, but, realizing I had no other option, I answered, "What tasks?"

I did have other options, of course. But I wasn't sure if I was able to choose them.

* * *

I did have other options, but running to the hospital seemed best. What was I to do, wait around and drive myself insane doing so? I was the vice-captain, and his best friend. And I was worried.

The stench of medicine made me dizzy, but I paced anyway, wanting to walk the anxiety away. Was it serious? Was he undergoing emergency surgery? Yes, of course he was, I wasn't thinking straight. The doctor told me he was the moment I arrived. But was the surgery successful? Was it—?

"Sanada-san?"

I whipped around and glared at the nurse calling my name. "What?"

"You're the closest relative present at the moment, so the doctor chose to disclose some information to you. If you would please follow me to the check-up room," the nurse said, and pointed to an empty room.

The doctor was a middle aged man with thinning hair and warm but concerned brown eyes. "You are Sanada-san, yes?"

I nodded tensely, then blurted, "Is he alright? Was the operation successful? Did it—?" And instantly chided myself for not having more self control.

"Please, calm down," the man said slowly. "I shall answer all of your questions in a moment. First, may I ask where Seiichi-kun's parents are at the moment?"

"They're at work, I think." I nodded slowly as I tried desperately to remember. "He said something about his father going on a business trip. His mother gets home late at night, and his cousins have some overnight class trip today. He was home alone." _What a time to undergo emergency surgery! _

"I see. Well, let's see here..." He pulled out a portfolio and showed me a sheet of paper. On it was a list of symptoms, and following it was a diagnosis. "As you may already know, the surgery was performed. We saw that Seiichi's parents had given permission previously to undergo any sort of GRA approved surgery that required emergency care, and naturally we gave your friend the treatment right away."

"He's alive?"

"He's alive," the doctor repeated. "But there was a—"

"What?" I demanded.

"Seiichi has undergone a similar surgery previously. But we've incorporated mew methods and new medicines into this new technique, and some of the chemicals still present from his previous operation clashed with this one. He has lost all of his memories. He's completely healthy and can go home, but a bit mentally unstable at the moment and dangerous to himself. We intend to send him to therapy and help him regain as much as he can. But full recovery will take a very strong mental or emotional trigger, and unfortunately we do not know how great. We'll send to therapy sessions and the such, but we cannot hope for an immediate recovery." He hesitated. "If he does not recover his memories within two years, he may also lose his abilities to function."

"That means—"

He was the one to cut me off this time. "He may enter a coma."


	13. XII

Guess what! My birthday was on May 10th, I was selected for this ballet program abroad! My group won second place at some competition. I'm also going to a very prestigious school in autumn, so updates will slow. But for the summer, I promise much quicker updates. As for my slow update this month, blame it on my ballet group. Sorry! Really, I'm really really _really _sorry.

I also haven't replied to many of your reviews. I promise to try and reply to all of them within the week. But thank you all for reviewing—it's what keeps me coming back.

* * *

I grabbed the doctor by the shoulders. "Well, how is he now? The chance he may enter a coma is slim, isn't it? This can't happen. Everyone will be helpless without him..."

A wave of hate washed over me. How could I be thinking so selfishly? Yukimura risked being in a coma, maybe even death, and all I could think about was the tennis team. I released my grip on the man's shoulders and glanced out the window. It was so bright, so blue. Wispy strands of clouds were painted over the sky by nature's artistic hand, and passing sparrows sang songs of bliss. It was a beautiful day, one of normalcy, one ordinary.

But nothing was ever ordinary with us.

"So, that's it, then?" I asked stiffly.

The man seemed embarrassed. "I'm sorry, sir, we did our best... The operation and doctors weren't at fault. It was a fairly new trial, and we'd been given immediate consent—"

He rambled on as I walked away, trying to defend his case. Did he think I was going to sue him? I could have. A tickle of anger grew into a bubble of fury, fury for letting it happen, for not preventing it, for not preparing for it. I wanted to punch a wall. But there were so many others, helpless and needy in this hospital, so many like our own Yukimura.

Suddenly, the room was full of Yukimuras, all staring at me in helplessness and despair, eyes wide and distraught. They were reaching out to me, begging me to help, accusing me of not doing so.

_Am I going insane? _

I gripped myself and crouched. What was happening?

* * *

What was happening? My eyes were huge with awe and desperation as I looked around Jackal's room. The posters, the photographs, trophies and awards—even the bed—they were all gone! Plain cardboard boxes replaced them, staring at me with indifference.

"You're really moving?"

He nodded. "Did you think I was bluffing?" His voice sounded tired.

"'Bluff' isn't the word I'd have used," I replied, but tugging at my pink hair all the same in sheepishness. I'd hoped it was a bluff. I'd hoped it might have been some sort of trick to get me to work harder, to boycott gum, something to make me appreciate him more. I don't know! Was this insanity?

Then I remembered. Jackal had called me over. I wasn't here to complain, to feel pity for myself. "What's going on?"

* * *

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Shh, Akaya." My mom hugged me, and I pushed her away. She stared at me with mercy in her eyes. She felt sorry for me.

I was alarmed. _Why does she feel sorry? Am I arrested for trying to kill that cat? _"He had it coming!" I blurted.

"Akaya!" She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. "What are you talking about? I thought you cared about Yukimura."

"I do," I choked out. "He's okay, isn't he? The doctor made him better? He's okay now?"

"Oh, Akaya," she breathed, and pulled me into a hug again. Why was she saying my name so much?

Angry, I pushed away from her. "What's going on? Tell me! _Tell me!_" I was the one holding her by the shoulders this time. "What's going on? Damn it, tell me..." I wasn't about to bother with omitting profanities. Her eyes were so dark for their light green hue, so watery. She seemed so fragile just then. And she barely knew Yukimura.

"He might enter a coma, Aka-chan." She looked at me sadly. "The doctor was a former colleague of mine. He didn't want to tell Sanada, but the chances of him recovering his memory are very slim."

"Recovering his memory?" I gaped. "He's forgotten us?"

"They're placing him a psychiatric housing center for now. He won't be able to go home after all."

"_They're putting him in a loony bin? _For losing his _memory?_"

"Not just that. See, he's been acting very irrationally. There may have been something wrong—"

"Nothing's wrong!" I insisted. "Everything's perfect. Mura-buchou is perfect. He's going to be fine. He gets past everything. He's going to go back to school on Monday, and we're going to meet up outside campus and we're going to play tennis and he's going to stop telling me to throw rocks at the cat..."

"I'm sorry," my mom said miserably.

"You shouldn't be sorry." I was smiling now, just a touch of lunacy tracing my lips. "Don't be sorry. It's all okay. See? See the sky? It's so nice today." And soon I was crying again, grabbing my mom's leg and begging her not to go. And she could do nothing but hold me, partly wonderous at the fact I was actually embracing her, but mostly saddened by the fact that she was helpless in the situation.


	14. XIII

How long has it been this time? At least, once summer vacation begins, I'll be able to update more frequently. I have graduation, prom, and my senior trip was yesterday. I also have to attend the awards ceremony, though it's quite a small event. The major events are given at graduation, and I'm not so sure I'll receive one, since everyone at my school is talented and outstanding (it _is _a magnet school), and compared to them, in terms of academics, I'm average.

I feel horrible for taking so long!

* * *

I tapped my lips with a number two pencil. My writing teacher had assigned the class a special project—to write one essay on the meaning of life, or the significance of their own lives. Marui had said it was a silly assignment, considering no one knew what the meaning of life quite was. "Don't you agree, Yagyuu? I mean, you can't even ask a priest or something. It's not like you can just call 'em up and say, "Yo, could you tell me the meaning of life? I need help with a class assignment."" And he had a point. If it was put that way, then Marui was right, it was quite silly.

Naturally, Marui was wrong.

No, I wasn't being mean. But our writing teacher had meant something else entirely. The meaning life was different for each individual. The significance was different as well. Someone on the math team wouldn't be as fond of tennis as, say, Akaya, and likewise, Akaya wouldn't be as fond of math as someone on the math team. We were supposed to give our own analysis of the meaning of life, and what our own life meant to us.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what to write. In fact, the only thing I could think of at the moment was how horribly annoying it was, knowing Niou was on the verge of ruining his life and not being able to do anything about it. Niou _was _a smart person. Much more intelligent than anyone really gave him credit for, and he didn't mind it. In fact, he took advantage of it, being able to easily trick others with a snap of his fingers. However, he was the one being tricked this time.

My grip tightened on the pencil as I scribbled a drawing of bottle on my paper. My mind wandered, and soon the entire paper was covered in pictures of bottles of alcohol, and much to my irritation, I hadn't thought of anything to write.

Niou was probably drinking at the moment. My nerves and any serenity I had left snapped. My pencil did, too.

I sighed. Marui was probably getting more done than I was, and that was a sad, sad thing to behold.

* * *

Akaya Kirihara crying was a sad, sad thing to behold. The Kiriharas in the world don't cry. They make people cry. I silently chastised myself for being so stupid, and hurled my tennis racquet at the wall. It left a large, green streak. I never liked green, anyway.

"Akaya Kirihara! You stop that, this instant!"

_No, _I wanted to shout back, but didn't. I felt as though I owed my mom some sort of compensation for crying on her and getting my tears all over her new blouse.

I was tired, exhausted. Maybe what I needed was some rest and relaxation. There was no point in thinking about my troubles if they were going to stay there anyway, right?

The sun was out again, shining and bright. I waved to the birds, and they flapped back in response. _Was it this beautiful outside all along? Did I miss the whole thing? What else did I overlook while I was being a sissy? _

There was a new sort of peace inside me. All my tears had left, and I felt light. Before I realized what I was doing, I had opened the windows and stuck my arm out the window. The breeze was cool and gentle, and I exhaled. My eyes closed. Was this how all those hippies felt when they were getting in tune with nature?

Peace felt... nice.

Action felt better.

My eyes snapped open. What was I doing? I was Akaya, for tennis's sake. I don't meditate. I don't get in tune with nature. I don't imagine flying with birds. But I sure was acting like one. Screw the rest and relaxation.

I quickly withdrew my arm and shut the window. Maybe Mura-buchou was sleeping. Or maybe he was awake and calling for the tennis team. Maybe I ought to get the entire team and get them to visit. Maybe I ought to sneak some cake and sushi into the house, get a new Tokyo Film movie, and have a get-well-soon party.

_Yes, _I thought with satisfaction, _just_ _maybe. This will be a day to remember. _

* * *

I wished I could remember what day it was. Why was the room so bright? Where was I? My hair covered my eyes, and I weakly brushed my hair out of my eyes. Whose brilliant idea was it to keep my hair so long?

This place looked familiar, somehow. Maybe it was mine. That was a pleasant thought. _But, _I thought with much disdain, _there are too many useless things here. _I looked around. There were many strange elongated contraptions, with a handle at one end and a rounded top. Multiple wires crisscrossed in the middle. Alongside them lay fuzzy green-yellow balls, scattered throughout the room. I tilted my head to one side. This couldn't be mine, could it?

I closed my head and leaned back on my pillow. What a beautiful day it was today!

_Strange how I know so many things, _I mused, _yet nothing about myself. Last I remember, there was a man with an odd haircut standing over me, looking quite grim... Yes, he said, "Yukimura, are you awake?" And I had not known who he was. I had not known who Yukimura was, either. _

A flicker of worry and doubt entered my mind. _Who was he? Was I supposed to know who he was? Was he a friend or foe?_ Then, _Do I know as much as I think I do? _

Suddenly, there was so much I didn't understand. Why was this bed so high up? Why was the room so large? Why was there a window next to me? Why could I see out the window? What was this cushioning my head? The room, it was closing in on me. The miscellaneous objects, they were chasing me. Ah! The window! My only hope!

I shot up, out of my bed and rushed to the window, trying to work the latch. _Hurry, _I pleaded to myself. _I can't breathe. I have to escape, I can't breathe, I can't breathe. _

My hands fumbled with the lock, and at last I gave up. Suddenly, I felt nauseous. The room spun, and I crouched, covering my head. What was going on? What did I do?

A door opened, and a group of seven or eight students entered my room. One of the shortest, a boy with wavy pink hair, was waving to me. The same man, the one with the odd haircut, stood aside and refused to look at me. A boy with curly black hair walked up to me. "Yukimura-buchou?" he said hesitantly. "What are you doing there? Are you alright?"

I peered up at him. "What?"

Two other people, one with violet hair and one with silver hair, walked up to me as well. "Yukimura?" asked one. "Hey. Sorry I missed tennis practice the other day. I promise I'll make it up."

"Tennis practice?" I echoed. _What was that? _

"You know, with the fuzzy green balls and the strange objects with crisscrossing wires," the man replied, an amused look in his eyes. The purple haired man elbowed him, as though he had said something inappropriate, but my expression cleared immediately.

"Oh, _that's _what it's called," I exclaimed. "I was wondering what those were for. Why do I have so many of them, though?"

The group of students eyed me curiously, excluding the one standing aside and the boy with curly hair. The former still refused to meet my eyes, and the latter boy seemed quite miserable. "What's wrong?"

"Yukimura," said the dark skinned one. "Are you alright? You're joking, aren't you?"

"Who's Yukimura?"

The person looked down at me, shock and confusion fighting for space in his eyes. "Y-you're Yukimura," he stammered. "You know that."

"No, I don't," I said indignantly. "You people could at least explain to me what's going on. I don't know where I am, who you are. You have no right to enter my space this way!"

"Yukimura," the one with closed eyes finally stated, his expression clearing. "You've lost your memory."

I stared back, not quite sure what was going on.


	15. XIV

Yay! This chapter is actually long! Well, longer than my other ones, anyway. I feel bad for not updating yesterday like I'd planned to, so I tried to make up for it. Please don't hate me. Reviews are very appreciated.

* * *

I thought back to the eventful afternoon. I was offered a dime bag, which I accepted, I got drunk and locked myself in my room for three hours, then Akaya and Yagyuu came pounding at my door, I went to our captain's house in a daze...

And, oh yeah, I found out he forgot who I was. I snorted at the irony.

Yes, today was quite eventful. I remembered the confused but righteously indignant expression on Yukimura's face and sighed. Even without his memories, he managed to be dignified and firm. He seemed to have such a clear sense of justice, of what was right and what was wrong, and in that instant I was envious of him, completely envious, and couldn't bring myself to feel pity.

_He's perfect, _I thought disdainfully. _Even without his memories, he's perfect. Even with a life threatening disease, he's perfect. I wish I were him. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I were as sure of myself. He has all the attention. He has all the dignity and confidence. He's never alone._

_I'll always be alone._

I looked up, and realized I was trembling. My eyes widened, and I looked out from my bedroom window. The view—it was breathtaking. There was something to be said for living in the city.

What was I doing? How could I be so selfish?

I sneered at myself, but remained unable to conjure up any feelings of confidence or hatred. I was weak, so weak. My mind trailed back to that fateful afternoon, and I held my breath as I recalled the expressions on everyone's faces. They all looked so stricken, but we, as a group, remained silent. It wasn't a shocked silence, or an understanding, comfortable silence. It was a pondering type of quiet. But what were we pondering?

Ourselves. We could think of nobody but ourselves and I was sure of it.

And, in a picture clear as day, I saw Yukimura, cowering by his bed, in a strange sort of fear, ghostly white and frail. Where had our leader gone?

_Don't startle him, _Sanada had said when we left.

_Don't startle him. _What about _us? _

Selfish. So selfish. I shook, and punched the wall.

* * *

I punched my pillow. I felt silly, for a moment, being unable to cry. Then I smiled, wryly. When had I ever liked crying?

People saw me as a steel wall of sorts. I was part of one of the best doubles teams in the country. Nothing could get past me. I blocked every shot, every lob, every smash.

I couldn't even block three words.

_Who are you?_

_We are leaving._

What I sight I must have been, face down on the bed, punching an innocent pillow like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum. A handful of small, barely noticeable problems had elevated into something ridiculously disastrous. I couldn't stand it.

Memories tormented me.

"_Who's Yukimura?"_

_I looked down at him, shock and confusion fighting for space in my eyes. "Y-you're Yukimura," I stammered. "You know that."_

"_No, I don't," he said indignantly. "You people could at least explain to me what's going on. I don't know where I am, who you are. You have no right to enter my space this way!"_

"_Marui, don't be so glum," I chastised. "This is a good opportunity. Tokyo has—"_

"_I don't care," he snapped, and shoved another tennis ball into the big cardboard box in front of him. Hard. I think he squished it._

"_You know this is out of my control!" I snapped. "You think I want to move to Tokyo?" _

"_You could have at least __tried __to stand up for yourself!" I retorted_

And, of course:

"_What's going on?" Marui asked._

"_There's a scandal."_

_He stared at me incredulously. "What?"_

"_Yanagi's uncle. He's tied my father into some sort of scandal, but I don't think he's aware. A scam, I think. I was looking around for hints, and..." I hesitated, unsure of whether or not Marui would believe me. The whole thing was a bit, well, outrageous._

_My friend waited quietly. "Go on."_

_Relieved, I continued, "Yanagi's uncle recently bought a large share of this company. He's using illegal money, I believe. He might have connections. Yanagi said something about it."_

"_Yanagi also said his cousin locked him into a room, and he had to jump out of his two story house to get out," Marui said sarcastically. "He may be a genius, but almost all geniuses are a little crazy."_

_I frowned. "I don't think he was lying." I remembered what he told me about losing that envelope, and about his cousin finding it. Perhaps..._

"_That's not like you, Jackal. You've always been so reasonable." His eyes began to wander, and I knew he was losing interest in the conversation and gaining interest in finding a new piece of gum._

"_I am being reasonable," I insisted, annoyed. "Would you listen?"_

I sighed in frustration.

* * *

I sighed in frustration. "You know," I said, gritting my teeth, "you used to love playing tennis." Then I chastised myself for being impatient. This was Yukimura, the one who'd taught me everything I knew about tennis. The one who was like the older brother I never got to have. "I'm sorry. Let me show it to you again."

Yukimura, however, was watching the ball dispenser in distress. "But it's being shot out so quickly," he breathed. "What if it hit me? Or hit my arm?" His eyes widened. "It looks very painful."

I smiled reassuringly. "Well, I can do it. And your teammates can do it. Heck, you're the best player on the team. Your body will remember what your mind has forgotten." I liked the sound of that last sentence, and repeated it, half to myself.

"What did you say your name was? Kirihara-kun?" he asked uncertainly.

I nodded. "Yeah, but you used to call me Aka-chan." I smiled again, this time forlornly. "Come on, let's give this a shot. Watch me, okay?"

I set the machine on Advanced, and a series of tennis balls shot out of the machine. One, two, three, four—each of them was returned with swift accuracy. I was rather proud of myself. "Tah-dah!" I announced.

Much to my disappointment, Mura-buchou was staring at me with a dubious expression rather than an excited one. "What's the point in this?" he asked. "I could never do that."

"Sure you can," I insisted. "You'll see! You're really good at this, way better than I am. Not for long, though." I offered a cocky grin.

He didn't seem to warm up to the idea. "I don't know..."

"Just try." I shoved the racquet in his hands. "When you see a ball, swing the racquet as fast and hard as you can. Try to aim for that corner, over there."

"I can't do that!"

But before he had a chance to protest further, I turned on the machine, opting for Beginner. A lone tennis ball shot out of the machine, much more slowly than before. I held my breath as Yukimura swung the racquet.

He missed entirely.

"What were you doing?" I demanded. "You barely moved at all! You're supposed to swing—" I grabbed his arm and moved it forcefully. "—like that!"

Yukimura cried out in pain, and another wave of guilt crashed over me. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, _I told myself silently. _You know he just got out of a hospital, you moron._

"Sorry," I tried, but he placed the racquet back into my hands firmly.

"No, I'm sorry," he told me gently. That was the old Yukimura, taking authority, using his gentle, logical and sympathetic voice. A small bit of hope fluttered. "But I really can't do this. Maybe I used to play this game well, but as I see it, with my memories erased, I'm a new person. I have to start from the beginning. And maybe this new me isn't cut out for something like tennis." He smiled. "But thank you very much for teaching me. I wonder if you would care to show me home? I don't know my way around yet."

"Sure," I said miserably, and turned off the machine again.

A gasp. Then a muted cry.

I whipped around and saw Yukimura staring at the wired fences in horror. He was backing into another fence, unable to tear his eyes away. When his back touched the wire, he cried out again and fell to his knees.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, rushing to his side. "Are you okay?"

"The walls," he said, panicking. "They're closing in on me. I have to get out, I have to get out..."

"Okay," I said, just as frightened as he was. I helped him up and led him out of the courts, leaving my racquet behind. But retrieving my tennis equipment was the last thing on my mind.

Was this claustrophobia? Takasuki-sensei had said something about that during class. Claustrophobia was the fear of being in crowds, or being crowded in.

But the tennis courts were quite spacious, and there was nobody in aside from the both of us. I resolved to ask Yanagi about it when I got home.

What was going on here?

* * *

"What's going on here?" I demanded quietly, pacing back and forth in my room and recalling the week's events.

"_Renji!" my cousin called amiably. "Come here for a moment, won't you?"_

_I gave up searching for the envelope—temporarily—and walked up to her. "Yes?"_

_She gave me a glinted smile. "There's something in the attic I wanted you to help me find. You can find whatever you're looking for later. Do you mind?" She tilted her head to one side and tried to look as innocent as possible. She knew I wasn't buying it, but she also knew if I didn't agree, she'd have reason to keep me from searching for what I needed to find._

"_Fine," I said simply, and followed her up into the attic. It was dusty, to say the least. She waited at the attic door while I walked further in and gave it a look. "What do you need me to find, anyway?"_

"_Oh, nothing." _

"_Then why'd you—"_

_She slammed the attic door shut. By the sound of a series of thuds and screeches, I could tell she was pushing chairs and tables against the door to keep me from escaping. "What are you doing?" I shouted, pounding at the door. "Let me out! What is this, a game?"_

_Then I realized her intentions. "You're foolish, you know that? You can't keep me here forever. Sooner or later, people are going to suspect things. People are going to notice that the last thing I did was walk to your house. This won't work." In a sudden streak of anger, I added, "Your scheming skills are just as bad as your tennis skills."_

"_You think you're so great," she sneered. "Well, my dad knows about your little envelope scheme, so I'd say the same for you! And I don't plan on keeping you here forever." Just long enough to keep you from finding the envelope. She didn't say it, but I knew she meant to._

_She walked down the stairs. I slumped against a dusty bookshelf. What a waste of time this was. _

_Then I noticed the window._

I smiled to myself, proud of my quick thinking skills. But I still needed to get that envelope back. The number had to mean more than just the bank account number. There must have been something in there that I had overlooked. Otherwise, why would the two of them go to such great extents to hide it from me?

And I couldn't even tell my mother or father. They'd report it to the police. I couldn't let that happen. My uncle was clever, and I knew it. He'd outsmart them.

I would do this myself.


	16. XV

"Get them away," Yukimura cried, swatting at invisible birds or something while I forced him into my family's car. It was old, and the color of swamp water (kind of smelled like it too) but I didn't care as much as I usually did. Yukimura had very possibly lost his mind, and I was scared _out _of my mind.

"There's nothing there, Yukimura-san," my cousin said gently, starting up the car and pulling out of the driveway. "Stay calm, we'll be at the hospital very soon, and the doctors will be able to help you."

He managed to stay silent for a few moments, and I breathed a sigh of relief, unsure of what to do. "Did you learn about this at your university courses?" I asked tentatively.

My cousin shook her head. "Sorry, Aka-chan. I can't help you with this one, but we'll take him to the doctor and maybe they can figure it out. I'm thinking we go to the Tokyo Psychiatric University Hospital. I know it's far, but they have the best mental institute, and the best doctors. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"But it's so far!" I exclaimed, staring at her in surprise. She stared back at me from her rearview mirror. "How long is it going to take for us to get there?"

By now, Yukimura was staring at the air with a sense of horror.

"Let's see," she said, tapping her lip with her pointer finger. She glanced out the window. "We're at the Kanagawa Centre right now, and the hospital is at the Tokyo border. It shouldn't be that long of a drive. Maybe just forty minutes to an hour." She sighed and turned on the radio. "Assuming there's no traffic. Really, what's up with the traffic these days? Just last week, there was a huge delay on the highway and I was two hours late to a very important business meeting!"

It was rather obvious where I got my lack of attention from.

"And of course, the fact that you punched the man who caused the delay in the face didn't help much," I said idly.

It was also obvious where I got my sense of violence from.

She laughed nervously. "Yes, well, don't follow my example, okay?"

Around this time, Yukimura would have murmured something like, "Too late for that," but being that he was a bit mentally unstable at the moment, I didn't count on it. The blue-haired boy was still staring at the air, shrinking back occasionally, mumbling some incoherent words. I stifled a sigh of distress.

My cousin drove along the road rapidly, once in a while screaming at a passing driver, while the rest of us sat in silence.

_It's all my fault._ _I shouldn't have forced him to play tennis. But with the way he used to play before... I just thought... _

Yukimura snapped out of his daydream long enough to smile sympathetically at me, a look that was painfully familiar. "Don't cry," he said, as reassuringly as he could.

And the very fact that my senpai, who had lost his memories and possibly had a mental disease was comforting _me, _someone with no problems of his own at all, was enough to make me burst into a full-blown sob.

* * *

The character on the screen burst into a full blown-sob. "_Shirley, I command you to live! Shirley!" _

I sneered and glared at the television. "You think _you _have problems?" I snapped. Well, true, the main character's friend was about to die from a death caused by his fake brother, who was also a trained assassin, but I wasn't about to go into that. "Stupid cartoon," I muttered, and turned off the television.

What did Jackal mean by a scandal? What was going on? Yanagi's dad, his dad... was it 'dad'? I faintly remembered Jackal saying something about a dad and an uncle, but the rest was a blue. With a groan, I sank into the couch. This was too much to handle.

I stood up, stopping by the trash can to spit out my now flavorless gum, and continuing to the mini-fridge I'd gotten for my birthday. Cake, cake...

Was Jackal serious about what he said? He'd sounded serious. He'd looked serious. But the mere idea... it was like something that would be found on a television show or something. Maybe one of those shows my mother liked to watch so much.

My little brother popped up from behind the fridge and clung onto my arm. "Bunta-nii-san!" he cried in obvious delight.

I gave him a fleeting smile. "Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I answered tensely.

"Something's wrong!" the eight year old declared, and jabbed a finger in my face, much the way I used to when I was his age. I was too upset to be amused, though. "You look sad."

"So what if I do?"

"I don't want nii-san to be sad," he answered with an adorable pout.

An adorable pout that I would have found adorable had I not been so pissed off with the world at the moment. "Go away," I grumbled, and marched off to my room.

* * *

"Go away," I muttered, pouring a small vial of possibly illegal chemicals into a beaker of dangerously bubbling green solution. "I'm busy, and this will quite possibly blow up the whole house. I need my concentration."

In truth, the potion was meant to be slipped into my family's drinks to keep them from waking up for about two hours, but _they _didn't have to know that.

"Renji, this is important, let me in." It was my cousin. The same one who'd locked me in the attic. Without thinking, I snarled a little. Maybe I'd slip some really bad tasting herb into her potion—

Hanging around Akaya was really proving to be bad for me. As calmly as I could, I replied, "I'm sorry, but nobody without gloves, goggles, a lab coat, and an anti-radio-active earpiece can enter this room."

(Did those earpieces even exist?)

"Oh, I see," was the unknowing reply. "Well, could you come outside for a second? I really need to talk to you." She was starting to sound impatient.

_Like I'm going to fall for that again, _I thought with a snort. "Sorry, but leaving this experiment unattended to may result in severely consequential results." That was a lie, naturally, as the solution was perfectly harmless.

"Please, Renji!" she pleaded. "I've got to talk to you! Can't you just distill it or something?"

"The chemical odors could very well poison everybody in the household—this experiment cannot be put on hold." Another lie.

"Do you know anything about a missing envelope?"

I froze. How did they...? Forcing myself to remain calm, I snapped, "Do not distract me!"

"For God's sake, Renji, I'm breaking down this door if you don't let me in."

_Desperate times call for desperate measures. _My expression was grim as I tossed a pinch of fluoride into the solution, causing it to create a loud, explosive sound. The potion had merely bubbled a bit—of course, it could no longer be used and I would have to start over, but it created the effect I desired. "Cousin, now look at what you've made me do! Leave the situation to me, but I demand that you leave this instant, before you cause anymore trouble!" I made my tone as sharp as possible, something that I usually didn't do. Nonetheless, my cousin left, and at the moment that was all that mattered.

If they knew about the envelope, then they knew that I was aware of their ploy. It also meant my cousin was involved (well, I knew that, she _did _lock me in the freaking attic), and that I was quickly running out of options.

Jackal's father was supposedly involved, but I wasn't sure just how much the Kuwahara family knew. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage.

* * *

_Perhaps I can use that to my advantage, _Kirihara Natsume thought, taking note of her cousin's worn expression. Aka-chan had been sobbing relentlessly the whole way to the hospital, and being in no condition to receive news of his captain's state, Natsume had been informed instead.

Akaya would not enjoying hearing it.

"_Are you a relative of Yukimura-san's?" the doctor asked._

_She smiled. "Not quite. His family is currently away. I think they'll be back in a week or so, but my younger cousin is a very close friend of his." In a firmer voice, she added, "Any news of Yukimura's condition should be given to me. My cousin is currently, shall we say, emotionally unstable." She grimaced._

"_Understood. Well now, we've given Yukimura-san a few tests, and he's in decent health. However, I believe he's inflicted with a mild case of schizophrenia. It warps the line between fiction and reality, and often confuses the victim. There's usually an external or mental factor that causes this, but in this case we believe it may merely be a case of the operation and stress that has led to his condition."_

_Natsume gave a confused look. "Alright, but how does this..."_

_He continued, "We can't be exactly sure what it is that Yukimura-san is afraid of, or what he's imagining, but it must have something to do with claustrophobia. It may have been a traumatic childhood experience or something recent, and as a result we are researching his background information and past visits to any hospitals."_

_Hastily, he added, upon noticing the woman's alarmed expression, "We've been given prior consent, from a prior operation. Yukimura-san will be staying in one of our private facilities. The expense—basic ones, anyway—will be covered by the government. Should we need anything else, we will contact you."_

Hesitantly, she glanced at Akaya. His face was buried in his hands and he stayed very still. Something about his position made him seem very frail, and she was afraid to approach him for fear of breaking him. "Aka-chan?" she called softly.

The younger boy jolted up and stared up at her with bloodshot eyes. "Yes?"

_Calm down, _she scolded herself. _This is nothing serious. The doctor said it was a mild case. The doctor said it could be cured. The doctor said his facilities were the best in the nation. There's nothing to worry about. _"You see..."

* * *

Okay, so my author's note is at the bottom this time. I wanted to explain that schizophrenia is a real disorder, not something I made up. I'm researching it because one of the characters in a potential novel (though I'm not sure I like how it's turning out) has schizophrenia, and it's really quite interesting. The disorder, not the novel. The novel is turning out to be a pain in the neck. Anyway, if you have any questions about it, feel free to ask me!

Edit: Um. I basically screwed up the point of views in this chapter, from first person to third person, so I changed it. Sorry, I guess I was half asleep when I wrote it. I left the last one as it was, because Natsume isn't really a main character, and her third person segment is more of a slight epilogue to the chapter than anything. In any case, if I missed anything, please tell me! I'm so sorry for the inconvenience.


	17. XVI

Again, I'm really sorry about the screw-up in the last chapter. Here's hoping I don't mess up again. In any case, I'm actually pretty happy. At the moment, I have about sixty-six hits for the previous chapter, which is encouraging, but also a bit disappointing. When people review, it means they like the story enough to go out of their way to comment. But only one-sixth of the visitors commented, which either means the world's getting lazy or I seriously need to improve the quality of my chapters. As a result, this chapter will have the point of views of all the characters, both as a pity party (for me) and compensation. Oh, and I'm not doing the whole transition thing for this chapter. Just a note.

Disclaimer: The usual stuff, and the excerpt is clearly from Wikipedia. Thanks, Wikipedia! (One more thing, and this totally has nothing to do with the disclaimer. Um, I'm not so great at math. The Roman numerals are pretty simple, but I don't know how to write twenty in Roman numerals. If someone could tell me how to write nineteen and twenty, that'd be great.)

* * *

Schizo-what's-it-called was apparently a very serious mental disorder. I frowned, sitting at my computer and trying to ignore the big "Welcome, Kirihara Akaya! We have several updates waiting for you!" pop-up. Currently on the screen was the schizophrenia Wikipedia page. The text was ridiculously small and the words were ridiculously big. It ought to have been the other way around.

"_**Schizophrenia**__ (pronounced __/__ˌ__skɪtsɵˈfrɛniə/__ or __/__ˌ__skɪtsɵˈfri__ː__niə/__), from the __Greek__ roots __skhizein__ (__σχίζειν__, "to split") and __phrēn, phren-__ (__φρήν, φρεν-__; "mind") is a __psychiatric__ diagnosis that describes a __mental disorder__ characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality."_

Seriously. What the hell did that mean? I couldn't even pronounce the pronunciation stuff, and I was pretty sure that _that _was supposed to make saying the gigantic word easier.

Next to the computer was a stack of books on mental disorders and schizophrenia—at least, the few I could find. It was rather annoying finding that the Kanagawa Public Library Branch didn't have much information on mental disorders. The library was stupid. The Dewey Decimal System was stupid. And hard. And impossible to understand. And the librarians were really mean.

The head librarian, Kohaku-san, was so absorbed in whatever she was looking at that she didn't bother helping me at all. Not even when I told her my captain had a mental disorder and I needed to do research so I could help cure him. She gave me a funny look when I said that, though.

It had taken a _lot _of threatening and death glares to get her to cooperate. And even then, I'd only managed to take a few books home. Most of them were smelly, wrinkly, or worn. And none of them had pictures of tennis players on it.

I sighed and flipped through the first book. There were a few coffee stains, but it'd have to do. Honestly, the content was incredibly boring. I never did well with textbook work to begin with. Once, my math teacher gave my class twenty pages of textbook work, but I forgot the pages and so I didn't do it, and I told her why I didn't do it and it was totally a good excuse and she gave me a detention and it was _completely _unfair.

Getting sidetracked.

It wasn't as if I didn't want to help Mura-buchou. It was just hard to focus. I mean, there was the fact that he was in the insane asylum (formally referred to as the rehabilitation facilities), the fact that I hadn't eaten breakfast, the fact that no one else knew about it...

Shoot. I knew I forgot something. Panicked, I grabbed my cell phone and began dialing. Darn it, how did eight-way calling go again...?

* * *

_I should have taken those espionage classes, _was the first thing that came to mind. _I should have paid more attention to Niou's schemes and pranks, _was a very close second.

Apparently, slipping chemicals into my family's drinks wasn't as easy as I'd imagined. How in the world was I supposed to slip a tiny vial of strange and very unnatural looking green liquid into every single teacup? Yet Niou managed to pull this sort of stuff off all the time with no problem at all. Well, that was to be expected. I rolled my eyes and fiddled with the small capped vial in my pocket. This was ridiculous. I wasn't Niou. I was a researcher, not a spy/burglar/assassin.

Ah, an opening! My aunt was going to retrieve the tea. This was the perfect chance. I stood up immediately, slamming my hands on the table and startling everybody around me.

"Renji!" my mother cried, outraged. "I thought I taught you better manners than that."

My uncle laughed and I bit back the urge to snap at him. "Nah, it's okay. Renji here is just getting caught up in the frenzy. We _are, _after all, going to be leaving in a month."

"A month?" I cried out in surprise, unable to help myself. "I thought we'd stay in Kanagawa a while longer..."

"A month is already too much time," he insisted. "We must leave immediately."

"Actually, Kiyoshi, I wanted to ask you something." My father folded his hands together and stared at my uncle intently. "Why _are _we leaving so suddenly? You said something about a business deal in Tokyo, and the Kuwahara family, but as far as I can tell there's no rush. Yes, the vase was stolen, but it was only a vase. We wouldn't have sold it anyway, and leaving a year later or so would make no difference, correct?"

My breath caught in my throat as I awaited his answer.

My uncle clearly looked uncomfortable, and I took so much unusually sadistic delight in seeing him squirm that I forgot to sit back down. My aunt still held the teapot in her hands, as if waiting to see how this conversation would turn out. "You see, the sooner we accomplish this the sooner we can move ahead. The, er, people I wish to meet with demand an immediate response."

Everyone else seemed satisfied with that response, but I was far from it. I needed to get back that envelope. Kiyoshi must have added something in there—or that code must have applied to something more—for there was no reason to hide a simple account number from me. It must have been significant if he worked so hard to keep it away from me. What else could that number have applied to?

My family kept all account numbers and passwords very secure. There was no other way of my getting the account number without stealing it from my uncle, or without arousing suspicion. And I needed everybody to think I'd forgotten about the whole ordeal for my plan to work. As Niou put it, casual, detached, but calculating.

The RikkaiDai tennis team was a bad influence on me.

"Let me get the tea," I offered politely. My aunt furrowed her brows at me, and I quickly offered an explanation. "I feel bad about being so rude before. Let me make it up to everybody."

My parents each gave me an approving look, though I refused to meet the gazes of anybody at the table. They'd be able to tell I was lying just from looking at me. How did Niou do it?

"Very well." I took the teapot from her hands and walked as calmly as I could to the kitchen. The vial—now covered in my sweaty fingerprints—was emptied into the teapot, and the tea followed after. With a straw I mixed it as best as I could, and brought it back into the dining room.

"It's hot." And with that, I set the container down.

My aunt tried to pour some for me, and I declined with the first excuse I could think of: "Sadaharu let me taste one of his concoctions and I can't drink anything remotely sweet for the rest of the month." Fortunately enough, they bought the silly but possible reason and went on chatting and eating for the rest of the meal.

They seemed so upbeat and lively. _Not for long. _I felt bad about tampering with my parents' drinks too, but it couldn't be helped.

My phone rang perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes later, and I checked the caller ID. Kirihara? What did he want? I casually excused myself, saying I felt tired and needed a nap. Perhaps if I pretended to suffer the same effects they'd soon be suffering, they'd be less suspicious of me.

Sure enough, a moment later the rest of my family began complaining of wooziness and exhaustion, and rapidly proceeded to bed. I took the opportunity to take the call. This had to be quick—I needed to take advantage of their absence. The sleeping sedative would only last for three or four hours, which would probably be enough time, but I needed to play it safe. After those few hours, they'd probably be genuinely asleep, but it also meant they'd be more prone to waking up from sound or movement. But according to my estimations...

Darn it, I needed a graphing calculator. There were too many variables. I needed to chart it. The phone was still ringing, and I quickly flipped it open.

"Hello?"

* * *

After apologizing to Tasuke, I settled myself on the sofa and went back to watching television. Moping around my room wasn't all that entertaining, and the lack of sugar had made me a rather lazy person.

I also noticed I'd gotten much thinner, possibly due to the fact I'd been neglecting my meals and desserts. Had it not been for the fact that Yagyuu was amazingly observant and pointed out my lack of energy, I probably would have turned into a stick.

Yagyuu.

Tennis.

RikkaiDai.

Doubles.

Jackal.

Moving.

Damn.

I moaned a bit and buried my head in my hands. This was so unfair! He'd basically ruined my life with one sentence. I didn't even have cake to make me feel better.

"Nii-san?" I turned around and stared at Tasuke, who'd ventured back into the living room.

"Hi," I muttered.

"You're still upset. Mom says that when a person is upset she should eat chocolate."

"I'm not a 'she.'"

"The rules still apply," he insisted, and shoved a bar of chocolate into my hands.

"Why are you being so..." _Stubborn? Relentless? Frustrating? _"...persistent?" I finished.

"Because I think you're wrong."

I blinked. Well, that sure wasn't what I was expecting. He was the type to roll out a corny speech about how he loves me and can't stand to see me upset, and how no matter what he'll always be there for me. Something like that. "How am I wrong? And about what?" I was one half insulted, one half dumbfounded, one half amazed, one half confused, and wondering how I ever passed math class.

"Maybe you should listen to what Kuwahara-san is saying," he ventured. "I mean, he's leaving, right? You owe him that much."

"You're siding with _him? _I'm your brother! I taught you tennis!"

"I'm not siding with anyone! I'm just saying you haven't really given any of this a chance."

I thought about that for a moment, absentmindedly unwrapping the chocolate bar and placing it into my mouth. I promptly spit it out. "Why does this taste like mud?" I demanded.

He giggled. "It is. See? This proves how weird and drifty you've been for the past week. Bunta-nii-san from before would have been able to tell that this was mud pie a mile away," he answered cheerily, and skipped out of the room. "It was hard to wrap the foil on it perfectly, too."

I was about to give him a piece of my mind, but something made me stop. _He's right,_ I realized. _And it took an eight year old to show me that. _Suddenly, my phone rang.

Akaya?

I put it to my ear and went to the kitchen to find some real chocolate.

"Hello?"

* * *

Yanagi told me his plan, and while I didn't approve of drugging an entire family, I was willing to cooperate. After all, I didn't want to move to Tokyo any more than he did. He wanted me to snoop around the house to find evidence—anything I could, really—regarding the meeting and the move to Tokyo. He even offered me some of his weird, gurgling green thing.

Needless to say, I declined. I knew I wouldn't need it. My family slept fairly early, and I'd been taught to move around quietly and silently by my father, who believed grace was a vital virtue. Maybe that was why I was running around the master bedroom like a mouse in the dark at eight in the evening.

For the most part, the hunt was turning out to be quite uneventful. My parents were deep sleepers anyway, and any evidence would probably be in their room. I felt infinitely terrible about sneaking around and fumbling through their belongings, but this was something that had to be done. For my sake, for their sake, for Yanagi's sake, for too many people's sakes that I bothered to count.

My mom was a bit of a neat freak. Everything in her possession was alphabetized, categorized, and numbered. It was quite easy going through her things, and quite easy putting them back. Nothing but jewelry and cosmetics in my mother's drawer, though.

I stumbled to my father's in the darkness of night. How I wished to be able to turn on the lights! But that would result in waking them up, which would result in my plan failing, which would result in something possibly worse than moving to Tokyo.

Unlike my mother's desk, my father's was a huge mess. Letters and business cards were scattered everywhere, and made it practically impossible to find anything. I grabbed my cell phone and turned it on, hoping to use it as a sort of flashlight.

Why did my dad have a pizzeria's card in his wallet?

"Yes," I whispered upon finding the corporation card I wanted—the Genbu Corporation, the one he and Yanagi's uncle wanted to make a deal with. With this, I could do some research, maybe contact a few people...

I flipped it to the back and my breath caught in my throat. These were phone numbers. There were codes, accounts, passwords and all. This was the sort of luck one would only find in a story or movie.

As if to ruin the perfect moment, my phone began to vibrate. I grabbed the card, shut the desk as gently as I could and ran out of the room.

"Hello?"

* * *

I sat at the dinner table idly, fiddling with my braid. It was rare of me to play with my hair, but these were unusual days.

My family was tense because of who-knows-what. My father cut his steak silently and avoided my mother's gaze with a cool and brisk expression. My mother looked infuriated, though was just as silent. My little brother, Keichi eyed my mom, then my dad, then me nervously. He cleared his throat in hopes of breaking the silence.

Nobody paid any attention to him. He seemed so crestfallen, and I felt guilty. It was unfair. He must have felt just as neglected as I did. I cracked a small smile at him, and his face lit up, then fell when I turned away and returned to stabbing the steak that sat before me.

It was so hard to focus. There was a little bag of white powder waiting in my room and a case of alcohol lying on the floor of my closet. And both were growing to be more tempting at the moment.

What did those people on reality shows do?

Who cared?

I pushed my plate aside and asked to be excused. My mother gave me a withering look and snapped, "Finish your dinner, and then you can be excused."

My voice was hoarse. "I'm not hungry."

"I didn't cook that so it could go to waste."

I sunk back into my seat, growing more miserable at the moment and found myself wishing Naomi were here. She was older, mature, beautiful, wise, and studying abroad at some fancy university. I had a feeling that Keichi wished that his older sister were here too. He'd always found a mother figure in Naomi, where our mother had failed.

I missed her.

Wist flooded over me and somehow that fueled my anger. "I'm not hungry," I repeated, though made no attempt to move away from my seat. Keichi stared at me with wide, scared eyes.

My mother didn't even look at me. Naomi would have noticed my pale skin, my exhausted expression. She would have teased me about slacking off. She would have cheered me up, somehow.

In a single movement I threw the plate on the table, successfully splattering sauce and food all over the table. The chair was tossed carelessly to the side and I marched upstairs, feeling no sense of accomplishment.

I think what I really wanted at the moment was for somebody to stop me.

But before I could bury myself any more in self pity, my phone rang.

Oh, the brat.

"Hello?"

* * *

This essay was starting to be a huge pain in the neck. No, that was an understatement.

This essay was starting to be a _very _huge pain in the neck. I ought to write an excuse note to or something.

_Sorry, sensei, but my captain has lost his memory, my two best friends might be moving away, my doubles partner has an alcohol problem, and everybody else is about to lose his mind. I'm going to have to turn in this essay a few weeks later, maybe when I'm not feeling suicidal. I never did write well when I felt suicidal._

Not that I felt suicidal. But it was seriously starting to tempt me.

I sighed and stared at my blank sheet of paper. Yeah, that was sure going to get me a high grade. This was ridiculous. I'd forgotten what the assignment was to begin with.

Hesitantly, I pulled a sheet of paper from my book bag. I really wasn't in the mood to move—what I wanted was to take a nap and forget all that had happened.

The assignment sat in front of me. Tiny black letters dotted the page, and suddenly they swirled into a face, demanding, "_Read me, read me!" _And so I read it.

_Monthly Assignment: _

_In Literature and You, we have studied a wide variety of classic literature, and each character has his or her own reason or purpose for living. For example, Pip, from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, lived to pursue wealth and to gain love from Estella. Hamlet from the play Hamlet: Prince of Denmark by Shakespeare, lived to bring peace to Denmark and to remove his uncle from the throne, and so forth. _

_As individuals, we have different definitions of the true meaning of life. While there is possibly no correct answer, I'd like you to write one essay describing what you feel the true meaning of life is, or the significance of your own life. _

_This assignment is due in one week. Essays will be accepted prior to the due date. Essays turned in after the due date will receive an automatic zero._

_Happy writing._

Happy writing, indeed. Yes, I was a gentleman. That didn't prevent me from crumpling up my paper and tossing it in the recycling bin.

"Hiroshi-nii-san!" my younger sister called. "We're almost done with dinner! Don't you want some?"

I shook my head, temporarily forgetting that she couldn't see me. "No, thanks. I need to finish this essay."

"Do you want me to bring some up for you?"

"It would be impolite to take my dinner up to my room," I reminded her. That was true, of course, but I suspected that even if she had brought it up to me, I would have left it untouched and wasted.

Wasted.

Bad word.

I shook my head again and went back to the essay.

Still, wasted.

"What in the world is he thinking?" I grumbled. "He's being extremely irrational and inconsiderate. If Naomi-san were here, he'd be a lot more—"

Naomi-san. She'd left abroad recently. Perhaps a few weeks before all this started. She'd always been a bit of a mother figure and sister figure mixed into one, and I'd met the rest of Niou's family.

How obvious. So I'd figured out the cause. Now, what to—

_Pick up the phone. Pick up the phone. Pick up the phone. Pick up— _

I grabbed my cell and held it to my ear. That ring tone was incredibly annoying.

"Hello?"

* * *

I stared at my katana for a long moment. Kendo practice ended a few hours ago, but I found myself unable to release the weapon. My _kakari-geiko _needed work. It was a short attack, difficult to master but worth the training, and one of my favorites as well.

Slowly, I drew the samurai sword and prepared for attack. The target sat in front of me, a bundle of soft, wrapped cotton meant to use as target practice. There was a small point in the center, the point my teacher told me I was to cut through perfectly and precisely.

He had demonstrated.

I had copied. And unfortunately, that was all I did—copy.

Kendo might not have been a classy, delicate art, but it was something that one developed, something that one managed to control perfectly and bend to his will. Not something one copied. There needed to be absolute concentration, absolute control over every factor in a battle.

There were a lot of things I couldn't control, lately. Too many things I could do, but didn't do.

I could have been spending time with my brother.

I could have been practicing tennis.

I could have been practicing kendo.

I could have been asking to find out Yukimura's condition. It was almost as if I'd gotten distant. In fact, I _had—_but maybe it was easier not to admit that. I could have called his home number at that moment. But what if he wasn't okay? What if he was still in the hospital? What if the surgery was ineffective?

There were too many "what if" situations, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to risk my own security to find out the truth.

I glanced out the window. The moon was so full...

My phone rang, and one glance at the number told me it was Kirihara. He must have been calling about Yukimura. I noticed that my hand trembled a bit as I reached for it.

"Hello?"

* * *

I sat in the room, across from a complete stranger. _Most people these days seem like strangers, _I noted wryly, and folded my hands on the table. With a polite smile, I said, "Why have you called me here?"

The man sitting across from me smiled back. "Hello, Yukimura-san. My name is Kiroshi Takuyo, but please call me Kiroshi. In any case, as a result of an accident, you've lost most of your memories and are currently suffering from what we call schizophrenia. You've been made aware of that by the doctor, I'm sure."

I nodded. The doctor had told me that, but he hadn't bothered to explain what that was.

"Schizophrenia," he said, as if reading my mind, "is a mental illness in which the victim fails to differentiate between fiction and reality. Your case is a fairly mild one, and you've not fallen to the disease entirely just yet. I'm sure you've noted your strange memory lapses and unusual behavior. We think that may have been caused by a past event, and we want to do a little exercise with you to get to the bottom of it."

"You don't have to treat me like I'm six," I said coolly. "I'm perfectly capable of understanding Japanese. Just because I've lost my memory doesn't mean I'm unable to speak coherently."

The man cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I apologize. It's a bit of a habit. Shall we get started, then?"

_He seemed awfully quick to change the subject._

I smiled again, the smile a bit more cold than before. "I suppose we shall."

Kiroshi cleared his throat again and held up a card. It had a strange looking black splotch on it, and he must have noticed my confused expression for he said, "I'd like you to tell me what you see on this card, Yukimura-san. Based on your answers, we'll be able to look into your subconscious mind and potentially uncover the cause of your schizophrenia."

"I see an ink blot," I said bluntly.

He gave me a strange look, but put the card down and displayed another one. "And this?"

"Another ink blot."

He cleared his throat once more. "I think you're missing the point. You are a smart young man, but the idea is to find out what this ink blot resembles to you, based on your imagination. A tree, maybe? A butterfly?"

"Oh." I looked carefully at the card. "I see a lake."

"Good, very good," he said approvingly. I snorted at his pathetic attempt at encouragement. How old did he think I was? Did he already forget what I told him about my fluid Japanese language skills? How offensive. He jotted something down and showed me another card.

"A campfire."

_This is surprisingly easy, _I thought, and propped my head on my hand lazily.

The door opened and a woman in white scrubs announced, "Will Yukimura Seiichi please follow me? You have seven calls."

"Seven?" I repeated in alarm, and followed her.

"If you wish, I can put the calls together," she offered. "They appear to know each other."

"Okay." _Seven calls?_

I picked up the phone and coughed discreetly. Immediately, a mob of voices sounded.

"_Yukimura? Are you alright?" _

"_What's this Akaya's telling us? What do you have?" _

"_Why didn't you tell us sooner?" _

"_Keep it down, you're going to wake up my family. The drug won't last long, you know! Yukimura, where are you?"_

"_You _drugged _your _family? _Ignore him, Yukimura, he's mental."_

"_Yukimura's got a mental illness right now, remember?"_

"_Oops. Sorry, buchou." _

"_Mura-buchou, how are you?"_

"Hello," I said quietly.

* * *

How much do you want to bet that there are, like, fifty typos in there?


	18. XVII

I haven't updated in a month and I'm seriously afraid if I don't update now this story will be totally forgotten about. So enjoy the updates while they last because school starts in September for me and I still haven't finished the damn homework. On another note, I'm hoping to reach two hundred reviews with this chapter. Oh, and thanks, _The Last Performer, _for showing me how to use the Roman numerals!

* * *

I sat in the room the doctors had assigned me to, starting perplexedly at the ceiling. This place was so strange. They told me it was a hospital, and they told me what a hospital was, and to be very honest I didn't feel I belonged in such a place. It was true I couldn't remember anything, but that didn't make me fit to be put away in some sort of insane asylum, did it? But then again, many of the other patients I'd met had seemed perfectly sane.

What was wrong with me anyway?

The doctors didn't disclose much information (which was unfair, considering I was the one they were treating and all) and the nurses looked at me with such an expression of sympathy. It left me indignant. Yes, I'd lost my memories, but I was capable of speaking well, reading, writing, and walking, for the love of God. Some of the nurses had taken to following me around, walking me to places that I didn't need escorting for. It wasn't that I wasn't appreciative of their help, not at all. Their concern was flattering (though it was their job) and reassuring, but it was also rather annoying.

I was so tired of everybody treating me like I had a mental handicap. Those few boys my age who frequently visited the hospital these days (they claimed to be from a tennis team that I was the captain of) had begun telling me tales of what had happened in the past. One of them (Yagyuu? Yanagi? I don't remember, their names sound so similar) had begun to describe my personality before my memory loss. He said I was much the same as I used to be, except a bit less sure of myself and a bit more withdrawn. I had no reaction to that.

It was pity that I felt for them, really. They were such friendly people, and they treated me very nicely, though some of them seem quite shaken up about my "condition." Like Sanada Genichiro, the one with the baseball cap. It perplexed me—why would he wear a baseball cap if he was supposed to be the assistant captain of the tennis team?—but I refrained from asking him. One of the other players—the one with the silvery hair—had told me that Sanada was very sensitive about his cap.

What was this stupid condition? I didn't _feel _like anything was wrong with me. I felt perfectly normal. So maybe I had many migraines, and maybe I couldn't remember much of my past—but it was coming back to me, bit by bit! Not the parts I wanted to remember, mind you . . .

Recently I'd recalled going to camp with a few friends—many years ago, the friends of mine were all a young age, and I assume at the time that I was too—and there had been an accident, I think. I couldn't remember much of it. There was a fire, and three trees. Three trees falling at once on—on me . . . But I couldn't be sure. The memory was awfully vague. Someone screamed my name, I think. And I was confined in that tiny space—

"Seiichi!" a female voice cried out, and the door to my hospital room was flung open. A woman in her forties with blue hair similar to mine burst inside and took in the sight of me. "Oh, Seiichi, are you alright?"

_Another one, _I moaned inwardly. _Another person who's about to baby me for the next four or five hours, another person who's going to drive me insane. Of course, according to the hospital, I'm already insane. Where would this woman drive me then? Sane? That'd be nice, actually, if not a bit odd—wait, didn't the doctor say a common side effect of schizophrenia was a continuous and irrelevant train of thought? I better start paying attention . . ._

"Seiichi?" The woman looked uncertain, and as I stared I realized that a man was standing at the door, a man with dark hair and light eyes. The woman repeated, "Seiichi, look at me. Are you alright?"

"Who are you?" I blurted, perhaps a bit resentfully, and the woman burst into tears.

"Oh, Seiichi! You can't remember your own mother!" she wailed, and embraced me immediately.

My mother?

This woman was my mother?

I immediately felt guilty for being short with her and tried to console her. "Um, it's okay, Mom," I said awkwardly, patting her on the shoulder and a bit unsure of how to react.

"'Mom,'" she said bitterly. "Seiichi, you used to call me _Mother. _Not 'Mom.'"

_Well, how was I supposed to know that?_

"Sorry," I muttered, and let my hand drop from her shoulder.

"Oh," she moaned, "I didn't mean it like that, sweetie. I just—miss you. We should never have left Kanagawa . . ."

"We wouldn't have known this would happen," the man said, speaking for the first time. "We wouldn't have known. Seiichi, you don't remember anything?"

"Sort of," I said honestly. I had faint recollections of the camp incident, but nothing else. I told them so.

"The camp incident," the man repeated, frowning slightly. "Those years ago?" His eyes widened slightly, and my—my mother's face took on a horrified and distressed expression.

"What?" I demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I knew this would happen," my mother cried hysterically. I honestly thought she was about to start hyperventilating when the man grabbed her shoulders and said firmly:

"We mustn't panic. For our son's sake."

_Our _son?

Great. So this guy was my dad.

Father.

Darn it, this was getting complicated. They were scaring me. What happened at that camp that was so horrifying? Was the incident with the trees not supposed to happen? Didn't everybody know about it?

* * *

"Didn't everybody know about it?" I asked weakly into the phone.

"_No, Akaya!" _Jackal said, exasperated, on the other end. "_And don't tell anybody else. Yanagi specifically told me not to. We can't risk his uncle finding out anything, and you know what Marui is like with secrets. Damn it, if half of Kanagawa knows about this plan by tomorrow then Yanagi will murder you personally. Don't think he can't do it. He drugged his family last night, remember?"_

"Oh, right! Speaking of which, did you guys find anything?"

"_We did, actually, but I really shouldn't say anything right now. You never know who's listening." _There was a pause. "_Well, if you want to know, then give me a second. I'm going into my room and I'm going to set up the soundproof system. My dad built one in while my mother was going through this odd one-woman-band phase." _He sighed, and continued, "_Alright, it's set up. Now, what is it that you want to know, exactly?"_

"Everything!" I exclaimed. "I'll help in any way I can."

"_I doubt you'll be able to do much, Kirihara, but I do feel the need to tell somebody about this, so it may as well be you." _He sighed again. "_Yesterday, I found the phone number of the Genbu Corporation, well, of one of the main businesspeople who work there. Yanagi and I did some research on it this morning, and after making a few phone calls we found out that the Genbu Corporation deals mainly with mass weaponry. They make a lot of their money through private deals, many of which haven't been carried through."_

"I don't get it," I admitted.

"_Okay, look. Basically, their deals are illegal, but are also impossible to trace. There are always multiple links in the chain, multiple benefactors. In this case, my dad is one of them, but I don't think he's aware of exactly what he's getting himself into. My dad would never do something like that." _There was a hint of pride in his voice, and I smiled. "_But Yanagi's uncle is attempting to close a deal with the company. Basically they're withdrawing money from multiple people's accounts, a little at a time. It's not suspicious enough to attract the attention of the police, and I guess this has been taking place for quite a while now because Yanagi's immediate family is almost broke, but don't you see? If we tell this to the police, we could close down the Genbu Corporation for good! No more scams, and no mass weaponry either."_

"Then do it!" I was pacing impatiently around in my room now, quite worked up. Jackal had a great chance of shutting down a threat for good! Why was he hesitating? Why was he wasting his time telling _me? _The truth was, this was the first good new I'd heard in a long time. It was so difficult to cope . . . it seemed everybody was having problems and I could do nothing to help. And it was true!

"_We can't. We don't have enough evidence, that's the problem. We can't catch them in the act. This deal is about to be closed, and we'd need more than one illicit deal to be able to get the businesspeople and the company convicted. The problem is these deals are impossible to trace. They make deals with people all across the world, the most unlikely, the most obscure, the most famous. It's impossible." _There was yet another sigh. "_It was pure luck that Yanagi managed to discover his uncle's motives, and purely luck that we managed to get so much information. But without a third party, we can't do anything."_

"I can help," I blurted. A plot was forming immediately in my mind, perhaps the result of watching too many spy shows, perhaps the result of hanging around Niou-senpai too much, but it was forming and I had a feeling it would work. "Oh, Jackal-senpai, please let me help! I have an awesome plan, and we can totally pull it off, too! We'd be calling a bluff and it'd be a bit risky, but let me try!"

"_Try what? Akaya, try what?"_

And I told him.

I could practically hear the grin on his lips, the triumph, when he finally said, "_You're crazy."_

* * *

_You're crazy._

_You're insane._

_You're unwanted._

I mumbled angry things to myself while stuffing a week's supply of food, water, and clothes into a knapsack. My younger brother watched anxiously from the doorway. "Niou-nii-sama? Where are you going?" Keichi shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I grimaced.

"I'm going for a walk, okay?" Under my breath, I added, "And don't be surprised if it takes me a week or so to do it."

"Nii-sama, why are you packing food?" His scared blue eyes grew wider and for a moment I felt bad for him, felt pity that he had to be related to someone like me. "Why are you packing clothes? Don't leave, Nii-sama. Please, it's so hard without Naomi-nee-sama, don't you leave too!"

I felt nothing by his words and continued packing. "You're the man of the house now," I told him. "God knows our dad has never been much help. Neither has our mother. You're in charge, okay?"

He ignored my attempt at being sentimental and wailed, "I knew it! I knew it, you're leaving! Don't go, Nii-sama! Where are you going? Are you going to Yagyuu-san's house? Can I go too? Please, don't leave me here."

"I'm not going to Yagyuu's, and you're not coming with me. I'm going for a f-ing walk, is that so much to ask for?" I demanded.

"If you're not going to Yagyuu-san's, where are you going? You're running away, aren't you! Don't run away, don't run away! At least Naomi-nee-sama was going to college. You're running away! You're going to be a gangster and get tattoos and nose piercings and eyebrow piercings and tongue piercings! No, don't go, don't go, don't go!"

"Damn it, Keichi, stop!" I snapped. "You're making a scene, and Mom's going to hear you, and if she does then I won't be able to leave this hellhole."

Keichi sniffled. Sniffles turned to cries, and I winced at the sight. He was only a kid, he shouldn't be put through this stuff . . .

"Look," I said in a softer tone, "I'll come back, okay? I just need to clear my head. Just let me do that. I'll come back."

"Promise?" He hiccupped.

"Promise."

"Pinky-swear?"

"Pinky-swear."

He outstretched a pinky and hooked mine onto it. His hiccups vanished and he grinned a grin that he most definitely learned from me. "You know if you don't come back in a week, I'll use the tracker that I had Yanagi-senpai put in one of the items you put in your bag."

"What?" I sputtered, and immediately sorted through my things.

"I'm not telling you which," he said in a sing-song voice, and embraced me. "Come back soon."

"Brat," I grumbled, but smiled down at him and hugged him nonetheless.

* * *

By the way, the last part with Jackal and Akaya, well, there might be some confusion over that. Basically, Akaya suggests a plan that you won't find out about until later, and Jackal agrees with it and is willing to see it through, and calls Akaya crazy because, well, the plan is pretty crazy. But he's still going through with it. Like, they're still using it.

This chapter was a decent length for only three segments, if I do say so myself. If you see typos, point them out, kay?


	19. XVIII

Okay, so generally I'm very, _very _sorry for taking so long to update. I know I'd intended to update before school started, but we ended up with a before-school-starts assignment, and once school started I was totally overwhelmed with the homework and stuff. I'm really sorry. In fact, chances are nobody is actually reading this story anymore, in which case I wrote this for nothing, but if you are reading it, well, thanks for sticking with it.

Sorry, again! But I've sort of adjusted to the whole high school scenario, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently from now on.

* * *

I was a gentleman. I was a gentleman. I was a gentleman.

But repeating that crap (_remain a gentleman, Yagyuu) _wasn't doing me any good. The only thing I wanted to do at the moment was scream and possibly curse somebody out (a skill Niou clearly excels at).

Niou.

Damn it, it was all his fault! It was his fault I couldn't concentrate on the paragraph. It was his fault for screwing up my mind, it was his fault I couldn't focus in any of my classes. It was his fault I wore my jersey on backwards to practice, it was his fault I almost started a food fight in the cafeteria. It was all his fault, all of it!

(So much for being a gentleman.)

But I couldn't bring myself to be angry at him. Not now that I knew why he was doing what he did. His mother had called me a day ago and asked if I knew where he was, and that was when I knew exactly what had happened. And putting the pieces together—his sister, his mother, his father, his _family, _his situation, the pressure, the taunting—told me I knew where he was, told me I could find him if I wanted to.

It told me I had to.

At the same time, I wasn't sure if I should. How did I know he wanted to be found? How did I know that I wasn't intruding on him? Sometimes running away is a way of escape. Other times, it's a way of life.

But it had never been his life. It had never been Niou's life, and I knew it. I knew him too well to let this go, and I knew myself too well to let myself settle for it. I had to find him.

I wanted to.

I vaguely remembered the light in his eyes when he'd told me about a park he had gone to with his sister in his childhood. He was eight, I think, and he was so excited to be out of the house. (His parents had punished him for putting hair dye in the shampoo.) Naomi had taken him to an old park, a forgotten one. It was covered in graffiti, it was old and worn...

"But it was beautiful," he had breathed, in a manner that was completely unlike him. "It was amazing, and we played there for hours until I could barely breathe. And then she took me to this little hill all the way at the end of the park and we watched the sun set."

It was a strangely movie-like scene, almost surreal, but I knew that was part of the appeal for Niou—and somehow, I knew it was where he'd turn now. I grabbed a bottle of water and a tennis racquet and left the house without a word. Nobody noticed me, nobody saw me leave. I wondered if that was how Niou felt.

And then I realized that sometimes, people run away to see if you'll come after them.

Or I was just crazy.

* * *

The plan was crazy, as Jackal-senpai had put it, but screw that! Like I cared. I wanted to get Yanagi-senpai's uncle back for making Yanagi-senpai move away. And for making Jackal-senpai move away too. And maybe I seem like a stupid, crazy nutcase in school, but you've got to admit, I'm pretty damn clever. I'm Akaya Kirihara, after all.

And that cleverness was why I was dressed in a suit, talking to some of Japan's biggest, richest people with Jackal-senpai at my side. "And so you see," I said in a fake British accent, "it would be very wise to invest in our new product."

The company president looked doubtful. "You see, sir, we don't really invest in—" he gave my 'product' a scornful glance "paper towels."

"But it's such an amazing paper towel!" I exclaimed, and Jackal gave me a look like maybe I was laying it on a bit too thick. But we were in too deep to pull back now, and honestly, this was kind of fun. "The increased thickness provides amazing absorption and suction, and—" I pretended to glance around as if making sure nobody was listening, and waved them closer, "_and,"_ I continued in a hushed whisper, "_there's a secret function that nobody knows about."_

They seemed intrigued, but I knew to pull back (or rather, Jackal did when he kicked me in the shin—even worse than when he stole my crayons). "But nah, you'd never go for it. It's a bit, shall we say..." I faked a casual sigh. "It's a bit illegal."

The company president immediately perked up.

Jackal snorted at that, and we shared a secret triumphant glance. "I guess we'll be going," Jackal-senpai said, equally casually, and we prepared to stand.

"Wait!" the CEO blurted. "Tell us more about this product of yours."

"You see," Jackal explained, trying not to laugh, "we've made it so that the little suction capsules in the paper towels actually can hold powders like gunpowder and poison. When a person uses it..." Jackal made a slicing motion, and I grinned.

"Amazing," the man breathed. "Now, you say that you're interested in selling this idea?"

"Not the idea," Yanagi interrupted, dressed as a businessman and walking into the office. "We're interested in selling the product with your help." The CEO gave him a hostile glance.

"He's one of us," I assured hastily, and Yanagi and Jackal both gave me a nod of approval. "So, are you in?" And that nod of approval was immediately turned into a glare of disapproval for the crude language.

Sheesh, uptight people.

The CEO grinned back at the three of us. "You realize that this has to remain absolutely confidential? You see, the Genbu Corporation has a secret of its own. We actually manufacture weaponry—of course, this is kept in absolute secrecy. Should you ever reveal this, we would be able to, shall we say, get rid of you."

I couldn't help but pale at that, but luckily Jackal said, "We understand. This product of ours will be sold to you, and we will keep this deal in secrecy. In return, however, we want a record of all the deals you've made."

The CEO looked a bit suspicious, so Yanagi elaborated, "We need the record to see what types of deals you make. This way, we can improve our products, create new ones, and hopefully work with you again. I can already tell this will be a pleasurable experience."

I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that."

The CEO calmed, and said, "Fine. But the record is only available at a glance, understood?"

"Gotcha," I blurted, and as soon as he had his back turned, I gave my two seniors a thumbs-up sign.

_Score!_

Things were different now. I'd learned something, and maybe that was what led to the sudden change in luck. Nothing comes to you if you don't try. The words my mother said to me all those years ago finally made sense. Actions will always lead to a reaction—without an action, there isn't a result. And that was what I had been doing wrong all those years ago.

I was still a child—even though my age totally suggested otherwise. I'd probably always have that characteristic with me, but I knew something now.

There's everything to lose and nothing to gain if you don't face those problems.

* * *

Facing those problems was harder than it seemed. Maybe part of it was pride. I had a lot to be proud of, after all. I was RikkaiDai's assistant captain. I was a leader in many aspects of the word, and while I was wise enough to know that there is everything to lose and nothing to gain if one chooses to ignore one's problems, that sentence was much harder to apply than it was to comprehend.

Maybe much of the problem was that I had let my guard down.

After all, how could I not have noticed that Yukimura was acting unstable? How could I not have noticed his sudden decrease in stamina? I slammed the cap on my head and thought, _How could I not have realized that what happens once can happen again?_

I was afraid to visit him, and was all the more disappointed in myself for being unable to do so. Why? Why the consistent fear? He was a teammate in need, he was somebody who needed support. The doctor said that an intense emotional trigger must be brought for his memories to come back. That was me. That was us. That was RikkaiDai's tennis team. How could I avoid something that could possible cure the team's idol?

But that, perhaps, was exactly the problem. He was the team's idol. He was the leader, the one everybody looked up to. Could I face someone so great and revered in such a miserable state?

Somehow, I didn't think so. That was foolish of me; cowardly, too. And that disgusted me even more. I, the Emperor, the one who beat Tezuka in the National Tournament, the one people fear and respect, was afraid of visiting one of my closest friends.

I walked up to the scroll in my bedroom. It read, "_In times of desperation, there is the pearl." _My father had explained that phrase to me when I was a child. Pearls represented wisdom, a clear mind, a poker face, beauty, wealth, everything one could hope for. But pearls also represented hope. The pearl was the tiny dew drop of hope in a sea of darkness, and one thing you could count on to lighten a day, even if only for a moment. And the pearl was what so many cultures had based their beliefs on.

Hope.

It was something the RikkaiDai tennis team was rapidly running out of.

How could I be such a _coward?_

I turned abruptly and walked out the door. Yukimura's hospital wasn't that far away. Maybe if I could just talk to him—even for just a moment!—I'd fix things.

Because I'd regret it otherwise. Because it's the right thing to do. Because the concept of facing one's fear has been hammered into my mind since the second grade. Because I owe it to the tennis team. Because I owe it to Yukimura. Because I owe it to myself.

* * *

I owed it to myself to know why I was still stuck in this crazy place. The hospital was awfully silent and I was rapidly growing impatient. There was nothing going on here anyway! Why was I stuck in this dump?

From what I had gathered, I was supposed to be an amazing tennis player with God-like capabilities and a very large group of fangirls. Well, for the love of tennis, the least they could do is _try _to respect me. I acknowledge that they're older than me. I do not acknowledge that it's right for them to treat me like a two year old with a mental handicap.

The man who had interviewed me the other day walked into my room, and I huffed at him. Part of me was grateful for the promise of sound, movement, anything. Most of me was still incredibly annoyed by his manner toward me.

"Hello, Yukimura," he said gently, and I glared in response. He chuckled nervously and said, "Well, we've gathered some data, and based on your answers yesterday, I think we have the cause of your problem."

"Well?"

"You have schizophrenia. You've been reliving experiences from the past. One in particular. "

"I knew that already," I snapped. "What for?"

"Let me continue," Kiroshi (was that the man's name?) replied. "There was a traumatic incident when you were younger. You were at camp. It was a beautiful place that's been charred to ashes. You were caught in the middle of it, and the trees began to topple. There had been a fire—the campfire had gone out of control. Your friends had all escaped, but you'd fallen behind. There were three or four trees surrounding you, and they fell all around you. You were in a closed space and you couldn't escape. In the end it was a camp counselor who had saved you. You were frozen—" Kiroshi stopped suddenly.

Why?

Why did he have to remind me?

It had all been buried away, buried so carefully away.

It was years ago.

Why couldn't it be left there, years ago?

Why now?

Why me?

I faintly heard someone calling, "Are you alright? Yukimura-san! _Yukimura!"_

"_I want to see my son," _a woman pleaded tearfully.

_Who is that? _I wondered. _That voice, it's so familiar..._

Then the calmness, the dreaminess of the situation went away and I was filled with an urge to be heard. They were going on without me. They were talking, not waiting for my response. They were leaving me behind in a campfire and trees were falling over.

I thrashed, trying to protect myself from those searing flames. I cried out, I moved about, and at last I fell to the floor, clutching my head and stifling my moans.

"We're going to have to give him something to knock him out," a man said, far off into the distance.

Knock me out? What for? What did I do?

Then there was a sharp jab in my arm, and the world faded to black.

* * *

So chances are there are a billion typos in there (as it is with almost every chapter I write), and I can't check it myself because I wrote this in about half an hour and I still need to do my homework, so if you spot one, point it out, kay? Thanks!


	20. XIX

So Akaya's perspective isn't included in this, which makes me really sad, but I promise he'll be in the next one. And he gets to be all high and mighty in the next chapter too.

* * *

The world was nothing but a blur when I finally opened my eyes, and it took me a few moments to remember what meager memories I had left, and finally I realized that I was in a hospital, surrounded by white, dressed in white, like mourners to a funeral.

It seemed like more of a funeral than a hospital, really. Somebody had told me I'd once been forced to stay in a hospital for over a month, and I wondered how I'd managed to make it through that horrifically long time. All by myself, with nobody to talk to… But I had friends back then, I think.

I knew people, back then.

"_Yukimura? Are you alright?"_

"_Mura-buchou, how are you?"_

"_Seiichi, you don't remember anything?"_

"_For our son's sake."_

"_You've been diagnosed with schizophrenia."_

"_I want to see my son."_

I winced at those words. Memories; they meant so little to everybody else. They were taken for granted, but I would have given anything to get mine back. People told me I was—

Well, how am I to count on their words?

I'd never know who I really was, what I was meant to do in life. Talents I didn't know I possessed would fade away into nothingness, and flaws I'd always had would come to life—simply because I wouldn't know any better.

Memories were… strange, if nothing else. When one died, did the memories just vanish? Nobody would record them because nobody wanted to be bothered with such a thing—and so they faded.

I suppose mine faded faster than the typical human.

"Yukimura?"

I'd learned to answer to that name, the name that I'd been told was my family name. "Yes?" I murmured, hating how weak and pathetic my voice sounded.

"You have a visitor," the nurse told me gently, and I winced again. There was pity in that voice, and while I couldn't speak for my former self, I knew I despised being spoken to with pity.

I didn't respond, and at that, the nurse turned away. A man with a cap walked in, and I recognized him as Sanada, one of the people on my tennis team. "Hello," he said, and I couldn't help but notice his strangely detached voice. "How are you?"

"I'm well," was my brief response. "Have you something you wish to ask me?"

He seemed confused, and so I just watched him for a moment, his blunt black hair, the perfectly pressed tie, the neat appearance—and the cap that ruined the entire regal image. Finally, he murmured, "Nothing in particular," and to my great perplexity, sat down on the chair situated next to my bed. "I was wondering if you'd begun to remember anything."

I sighed and glanced over at him, realizing he had been sincere with his question. "Not much," I said casually. "I remembered a traumatic experience that I had as a child. Nothing else, though."

He seemed startled. "Nothing from your middle school years?"

"Nothing."

Visibly, the glimmer that'd begun to show in his eyes faded, and he reached into his coat pocket. "I thought so." Sanada handed me a worn green headband. "This belonged to you, you know. You wore it when you played tennis, because your hair would always fall into your eyes. And eventually, the tennis team bought you this headband, because you'd actually missed a volley, playing with Niou." He seemed strangely nostalgic, and held the headband out toward me.

I reached for it. The cloth was soft to the touch, and holding it, it felt as though memories were just within of reach. But they remained that fateful inch away, and nowhere but. It was frustrating, to say the least. "Was I good player?" I asked quietly.

"The best," he said firmly. "You were the captain, and everybody looked up to you. When you joined the team as a first year, the upperclassmen knew you'd be the next captain. And the rest of the first years followed you. Akaya wasn't on the team, then."

--

_A curly haired boy with bright green eyes smiled up at me._

"_Morning, Mura-buchou!" _

--

"He's a year younger than us, isn't he?" I suddenly asked.

"Yes, he was still in grade school. When he first arrived at RikkaiDai, he raced past us and jumped onto the pillar holding up the gates. Soon after, he joined the tennis club. You crushed him in mere minutes, Yukimura."

"I crushed this, I crushed that," I muttered. "I don't sound like a very amiable person."

He almost laughed at that, and I kind of wished he had. "No, you were a very amiable person. Friendly and polite. You had your own fan club. But on the tennis courts, you were rather different. You had your own technique—you'd make your opponents lose their senses, little by little. You played against Marui, once. And he refused to play tennis for a week after that."

--

"_Do you mind if I eat this cake?" a lithe boy with pink hair asked sheepishly._

--

"Marui…?"

"He's a doubles player on the team," Sanada explained. "He plays with Jackal. You would pit them against Yagyuu and Niou quite often, and almost always, the match would end with Niou and Marui pulling pranks on their doubles partners."

--

"_You should've seen the look on your face," a boy with a rattail cackled, a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes. _

_His companion, a young man with glasses, sighed. "I wish you wouldn't play such foolish jokes in the middle of practice." A boy with tanned skin and sharp eyes nodded in agreement, casting a meaningful at the boy with pink hair._

"_You know you're just jealous you didn't think of it. Don't worry, we'll include you next time."_

_The boy with sharp eyes shook his head. "You two are a scary pair."_

--

"A scary pair," I breathed.

Sanada nodded. "Yanagi and I were always the ones forced to stop them," he continued.

"Didn't I do anything?"

"No," he said with a slight smile. "You appreciated their pranks like nobody else, as long as they didn't disrupt practice too much. You assisted them once, I believe." And then he frowned again. "A prank on me, if I recall."

I laughed slightly.

--

_A boy with closed eyes and floppy brown hair looked at a boy wearing a cap in surprise. "Sanada, what happened to your hair?"_

_The boy in the cap glared slightly. "Nothing," he grumbled, and shoved the cap onto his head. _

_I was watching in amusement, while the rest of the tennis team openly laughed._

--

"Your hair," I interjected. "Did I dye your hair?"

He gave me a curious look. "You did, in fact. Orange. Do you—do you remember anything?"

Was that really remembering? Or were they lucky guesses? They seemed so real—but at the same time, I knew I couldn't get my hopes up. Wishing for something impossible was the same as martyrdom, and I was too selfish to sacrifice more.

So I said, "I don't know," because I was selfish—because I had nothing, and I wanted more.

But I added, "Would you tell me more?" because there was nothing wrong with hoping—because a man with nothing can't lose much.

* * *

A man with nothing can't lose much.

I reminded myself of that as I eased open the drawer. The CEO of Genbu Corporation had shown us the list of deals they'd made, and Yanagi, Kirihara and I had been especially careful to take note of where they kept the file. At the moment, Kirihara and Yanagi were "negotiating" with them in regards to the supposed deal. I knew I wouldn't have much time, just as I knew there were security cameras in the building that'd surely record any routes the three of us could take should we try to escape.

Kirihara had already disabled the security cameras in the room (a trick taught to him by Niou), but I knew I had a limited amount of time.

The drawers were categorized numerically, and if I recalled, the drawer in which they'd put the file had been in Drawer 5. I opened it as quietly as I could and sifted through the files. They all seemed surprisingly innocent—stock records, bulletins, party notices, meeting minutes. And soon, I'd gone through the entire drawer without finding a trace of anything. I checked my watch.

It'd already been fifteen minutes.

I placed the files exactly where I'd found them and rushed through the other fifteen drawers.

Nothing.

I bit my lip and prayed that the negotiating was going well. I barely had any time left, now, but this was my only shot. Leaving Japan meant leaving everything I had—my school, my friends. I remembered how angry Marui had been when I'd finally told him, and sorted through the drawers all over again. Still, nothing.

My phone buzzed. A text.

Kirihara Akaya: _Any luck?_

I hurried to type back.

Jackal Kuwahara: _Can't find anything. Stall them longer._

There was no response, and I took the time to go through everything a third time. Just as I was getting ready to open the third drawer, a faint tapping sound by the window disrupted the silence. I dropped the papers, startled, and immediately picked them up again. Should I open the window? It could have been an enemy—but with the way I was dressed, I could have lied and said I worked there. No, that wouldn't work—they'd know their own, and they'd surely be able to recognize me…

I decided to ignore the tapping sound, and crouched down to avoid being seen. Quickly, I placed the papers back and skipped onto the fourth drawer.

The tapping sounded again, and again I ignored it. This continued for a few moments, until finally, I heard the window opening.

Quickly, I began to prepare alibis. _I was sorting through the papers and was so into them, I didn't notice the tapping. I was calling somebody and didn't hear you. I thought you were an intruder and was about to get security…_

A head full of pink hair poked into the room. "Hey, Jackal."

"…Marui?" I asked, doubting my eyes.

"'Sup," he said casually, like breaking into highly secure buildings that produced mass weaponry was perfectly normal. "You still can't find the papers?"

"How'd you know?" My voice was still completely disbelieving.

"Man," he said, ignoring my question, "for someone who's got awesome defense, you suck at the offense, don't you?"

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

He grinned. "Akaya texted me—said you might need some backup." He hesitated, then added, "And I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," I said, going back to the drawers.

"Yeah, it was," he replied slowly, pushing me aside and checking the drawers himself. "I overreacted and avoided you for weeks. That wasn't really smart of me."

"I didn't do anything to remedy the situation either," I offered. "And check the fifth drawer. I swear, I saw the CEO put the file into that drawer, but I can't find anything."

"You don't have much time, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed all the papers in the drawer and dumped them onto the floor. I expected him to sift through them, but instead, he ignored them and began looking around the empty drawer. There was silence for a few seconds, then an excited exclamation from him. "You haven't learned much, have you? In those cool spy movies, the correct drawer always has some sort of secret container." He grinned again. "Didn't you notice that the drawer felt a lot more shallow than what its profile suggested?"

I laughed, unable to help it. "We should have asked for your help sooner."

"Yeah," he said with unexpected seriousness. "You should have." But then he shrugged. "It's over now, anyway. Let's tell Akaya he can stop pretending to be smart. Must be hard for him."

I shook my head, smiling slightly. "Even in the most serious of situations…"

* * *

"Even in the most serious of situations," Naomi had told me that day we'd snuck out, "the park can make everything better."

And now I was sitting on the swings in the empty park. The sun shone, dying the area a dark orange. It seemed so eerie, but somehow, this was the place I'd come to love most.

--

"_I love the swings," I said excitedly. "They go so high, and if you're good enough, you can go all the way around!"_

_Naomi laughed. "Aren't you afraid you'll fall over and hurt yourself, Niou?"_

"_Nah," I replied dismissively. "I'd never hurt myself if I could help it. I'm too smart for something like that."_

"_You certainly are," Naomi agreed._

--

What had happened to that _me?_

I kicked the grass slightly, and swing brought me a few feet into the air. Another kick, another few feet, until finally, I'd swung beyond ninety degrees—just enough to see the top of the little hill off to the side. Naomi had shown that hill to me years ago, and she and I had agreed that it'd be our secret—ours and nobody else's. And I'd always imagined that someday, I'd take Keichi to an equally mystifying place. And then, maybe it'd be a tradition for children of the Niou family to show their younger siblings to secret meeting places.

You have to admit, that'd be a pretty awesome tradition.

I frowned slightly and kept kicking, until finally somebody grabbed the chains of the swing and sent me skidding back onto Earth.

"You were almost about to flip over," Yagyuu said simply when I gave him a confused look. "That's dangerous, Niou-kun."

"I wouldn't have gone all the way around," I protested. "I'd never hurt myself if I could help it. I'm too smart for something like that." They startled me—the meaning of those words, and when I'd used them last.

And Yagyuu must have had some sort of psychic power, because he smiled a bit and said, "You certainly are."

We both sort of stood in silence after that, with me now standing on the swings and Yagyuu leaning on the gates. And finally he said, "Was it ever really about the liquor?"

I was startled by the question, and even more startled by the answer. "No," I said before I realized what had happened. "Not really."

"Not the drugs either," he continued. "Attention, maybe?" He turned to me then, and the sunlight glinted in his glasses just enough to conceal his eyes. "Naomi, maybe?"

I didn't answer. "That's how I knew to find you here," he explained. He glanced around. "I can understand why you found this park so magical as a child."

Silence. I stared straight ahead. "I have a sister too," he said. "But she's younger than me, so I'm always the one to show her around."

I felt as though I owed it to him to give a reply, so I muttered a "Really?" and began to swing again.

We spent a few moments like that. He spoke, and I muttered monosyllabic replies every five minutes. And finally he said, "She wouldn't leave forever, you know." I gave him a startled glance—he paid no notice. "People leave sometimes, but they come back. And you're supposed to be there waiting.

"And Keichi's been waiting for years—you never noticed that, did you? Don't blame him for your parents' behavior. It's not his fault; it's not their fault. They are who they are. It's not just about you, and it's about time you realized that."

"This sounds an awful lot like a cheesy movie," I couldn't help adding, but he didn't smile.

"Is that all you see in it, Niou-kun?" With that, he turned away.

But I did smile. It was a feeling I hadn't known in weeks, and I was strangely pleased with myself when asked, "You wanna stay and watch the sunset on that hill over there?"

He turned back to me and returned the gesture. "That hill belongs to you and your sister. I wouldn't dream of taking it away from you."

And with that, he left.


	21. XX

So there's going to be one or two more chapters, then an epilogue. I think.

Akaya gets a totally cool moment! Yay! I just finished writing this, and my first thought was: _God, this is sappy. _Try to enjoy it, kay? And if you spot typos, tell me please.

* * *

I sighed slightly and remained sitting on the swings, kicking the grass the way little kids did. Yagyuu had just left, and I felt strangely idle.

So I contemplated. Why was I so afraid of being left without Naomi?

_Because I was afraid, maybe?_

_Because without someone to look after me, I would have to look after myself. And maybe I wasn't ready for that._

Why couldn't I rely on my parents?

_Because they weren't fit to be parents. They never were, and I knew that. But perhaps if I'd been more open with them— No, there was no time for ifs and buts now._

Why wasn't I more open with them?

_Because I was so used to being independent. Because I was too proud to be dependent._

Why was I so prideful?

I smiled a bit at the answer. _Because I'm from RikkaiDai. Because I'm a Niou. _

The light was dimming, and I decided that if I wanted to catch the sunset, I'd have to hurry. With a grunt, I jumped off the swings and raced to the hill like I used to. It'd been so long since I'd last gone there, and I was grateful that it looked undisturbed. The grasses had grown and the flowers I'd seen so many years ago had given way to budding new ones, but otherwise the hill remained the same.

The view had changed, though. _There're more buildings now, _I thought. _It looks different._

But two aspects of the view had remained the same. The buildings still looked tiny, I was still up high.

I still felt like I was on top of the world.

And the sunset stayed as beautiful as ever.

It still took my breath away. The reds, the pinks, the gold—they mingled and swayed, like a thousand ribbons woven into one. And it stretched across the sky, creating a light so blinding that it masked even the brilliance of the stars.

I snorted. _I sound like such a romantic._

In the moment I'd turned away, the sky's radiance had faded into a dull violet. Tinges of pink and gold traced the clouds—clouds that were drifting to the other end of the earth.

The sunset had come and gone.

I glanced over my shoulder one last time before heading home.

* * *

I glanced over my shoulder. With luck, Yanagi-senpai, Jackal-senpai, Marui-senpai and I would be heading home soon. The plan was going perfectly so far—Jackal told me that with Marui's help, they'd found the file in a hidden cabinet inside the fifth drawer, and had immediately taken photos of it. They were heading our way now—it was our job to pull off a clean escape.

The CEO was rambling about the company's history, and the three of us tried to memorize as much information as possible. But our lucky streak wouldn't last long—they'd ask for more information on our product eventually, and unfortunately, we wouldn't have it. They'd catch on to us, the plan would be ruined—I didn't want to think about what'd happen after that.

I couldn't help but notice that the CEO looked a bit different than he did before. His persona, I meant. He'd seemed unsuspecting and calm before, but at the moment, he seemed brisk, almost teasing.

It was already nighttime—the sun had set only a few minutes ago. The CEO, however, looked eager to continue our conversation. "Tell me more about this product of yours," he said. "Do you have any estimations? The materials, the potential profits, for example."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Jackal, Yanagi? If you'd please fetch our files," I said awkwardly. Jackal and Yanagi both seemed quite startled—I was a great deal younger than them, and by asking them to leave the room, I was leaving the CEO to myself.

But they couldn't outwardly deny my request. Jackal gave me a worried look, and I sent him a reassuring one in return, gesturing to my pocket.

They'd been covering for me for the entire meeting. It was about time I repaid them. "The plan," I mouthed, and Yanagi's face lit up. He nodded quickly, and immediately pulled Jackal outside.

The CEO seemed pleased, but I didn't pause to think why. "Very well. It's easier with just the two of us, in any plans, sir?"

Knowing that Jackal and Yanagi would need at least fifteen minutes to complete the plan, I began, "I'm afraid it's quite detailed, and I haven't got everything down yet. It'd be an honor if you would help me, sir."

He nodded. "Of course. The Genbu Corporation will be taking as much part in this project as you. But first, we'll have to review the safety and privacy procedures. There are certain requirements, after all." He bared his teeth in a smile.

"Didn't—didn't we review that earlier this afternoon?" _Don't sound like such a wimp, Akaya. You were the one who wanted to play the hero._

"We did, but that was, shall we say, a condensed version."

I cleared my throat, trying to hide my fear. "Then do list the conditions."

"For one, we don't tolerate…" He tilted his head to one side in a sickeningly innocent gesture, and I couldn't help but be reminded of Fuji from Seigaku, "…liars."

"We won't have a problem with that," I assured stiffly. "Next."

"You see," he said, ignoring my comment, "our building has some very tight security." With the way he said that, I would have normally assumed that he was onto me, but then I remembered that Marui, Jackal and Yanagi had already disabled the cameras. I'd helped—I'd checked every last visible camera in the room.

We were supposed to be clear.

_Supposed._

"We've got everything from trained assassins to hidden cameras," he continued in a strangely content voice. I tried not to think about how eerily he resembled a door-to-door salesman—or hit man.

And then I realized something.

"Hidden cameras?" I repeated.

His grin widened. "Inside the walls, inside paintings, in doorknobs, in knickknacks, _everything._ We have hundreds of employees who specialize in checking those cameras, twenty-four seven."

_Oh my God, Jackal-senpai and Marui-senpai! And Yanagi-senpai—he doesn't know he's being recorded… _I took a deep breath. _They just have to follow the plan. A few more minutes, and we'll be clear! Just stall a few more minutes…_

I kept my expression as stoic as possible—a trick I learned from watching Sanada-fukubuchou so much. "That's intriguing, but I don't see how it applies to anything regarding my product."

Again, he ignored me. "As I mentioned before, we also have some very skilled assassins. They're taught to do everyday manual labor, taught to blend in with any environment. They can dance, write, anything at all. But most importantly, they can act."

At that, the door opened, and in came a young man dressed sharply in a suit and holding a cup of coffee. Something glinted in his pocket, and with a jolt I realized it was a penknife.

"Your coffee, sir," he said calmly, and approached the two of us.

I merely nodded at him. "I don't understand where you're going with this, sir," I told the CEO, even though I understood perfectly.

The young man turned to me. He was my age, maybe a little older. Had he been trained to do this all his life? Nonetheless, he pulled out the little penknife and twirled it around.

Surprisingly, I felt nothing but pity for him. _He probably never had a childhood. He's had to live like this all his life. He never had tennis. He never had teammates. He never had friends._

I stood. "I'm feeling rather uncomfortable, what with you pointing that knife at me," I said, a bit sarcastically. The CEO smiled at me.

"Glad you understand, Kirihara-san."

"But I'm afraid _you _don't," I announced in a sing-song voice. "I'm not going to die."

"And why ever not? Young Satoshi-kun here is very talented." And again, he bared his teeth in that frightening smile. "We have the corpses to prove it."

I smiled grimly. "Do you intend to use that 'talent' against me?"

"Why wouldn't I? We'll take you out first, then your little friends. It's much easier to do it one at a time—I simply must thank you for sending your friends away."

_That's all the evidence I need._

"Maybe because I came prepared," I said, patting my pocket.

_Please, don't figure out I'm bluffing. Don't figure out I'm bluffing, oh, Kami-sama, don't let them figure out I'm bluffing. _

"You're bluffing," the CEO replied.

"Am not!" I blurted indignantly. "Or do you want to find out for yourself?" I wrapped my hands around something in my pocket, pulling the tip out. Its metallic surface glinted, and the CEO flinched.

"You wouldn't know how to use it. Satoshi has been trained to do this for over a decade. You're no match, Kirihara-san." He gave me a disdainful glance. "But as a safety precaution…" He pressed a tiny button on his pen, and it beeped three times.

"What is that?" I demanded, remembering those crazy spy movies, where a tiny pen like that could blow up a whole building.

"Back-up," he said simply. "They'll be here in a matter of seconds."

_This is what I get for trying to play hero._

The door burst open, and I flinched. I balled my hands into fists, ready to fight if absolutely necessary.

But I didn't have to, because there stood Marui-senpai, Jackal-senpai, and Yanagi-senpai, with a crowd of police officers directly behind them. "Is this him?" a police officer grunted, pointing at Satoshi.

"He's the one trying to kill me," I said cheerfully. "The CEO's the one who sent him. I don't know who the boss is, though."

He nodded. "That's good enough. Leave the rest to us."

"Are you okay?" Jackal demanded, rushing to my side. Marui followed, and I released a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"You're okay!" I said, relieved.

"_Us?" _Marui demanded. "You were about to get killed! Let's get out of here."

"Wait," I protested, and pulled out the tape recorder from my pocket.

"It wasn't a knife," Satoshi said quietly, staring at the small rectangular object.

I handed it to one of the officers. "There's evidence here, if you need any. And you can always check their security cameras." I grinned. "They have lots of hidden ones."

"Who do you think you are?" the CEO person finally snapped, having been handcuffed by an officer. "Do you think the corporation will fall because _you _say so?"

I smiled to myself. The perfect set-up—a movie moment.

_I've always dreamed of saying this._

"The name's Akaya. Kirihara Akaya," I said proudly, sounding eerily like James Bond. "Don't you forget it."

* * *

"I've forgotten so much," I said, mostly to myself. "And now I have these little scenes—snippets of eighteen years of my life—and at the same time I have nothing."

Sanada hesitated before answering. "You have the basic memories," he assured. "You know who everybody is now. You've been told what happened before you lost your memories—you know everything, and that's about the same." But his words were hollow.

"It's not." And I hated the weakness in my voice. "It's not the same. The person I am—the person I was—he was so _different. _And I want to be him again." _Instead of being me._

I'd recovered enough memories to realize my pride, but not enough to act upon it. I'd recovered enough memories to learn people's names, but not enough to know them. And somehow, that felt worse.

"You can start over," he said unconvincingly. "You'd be able to, in any case. You have the basic aspects of your personality down, and certain factors would be different, but…"

I shook my head and repeated, "Not the same."

"I know it's not," he replied, not quite snapping, but sharper. "And it'll never completely go back to that." He frowned a little (although he had been frowning in the first place) and added, "It won't be the same without you."

_I don't want it to be without me, _I wanted to snap, but knew better than to. Here was this young man, sitting with me and being patient when he could have been playing tennis (which appeared to be very important to him). I had no right to snap. I didn't know him well enough—

_I used to._

—to be anything but formal to him. And I resented that.

"I suppose the team was close," I said coolly, trying not to let any distress show.

"It was," he acknowledged, sounding just as detached. He pulled off his cap and fiddled with it. A small voice in the back of my mind told me that playing with his cap was something he did when he was uncomfortable or distressed, but I couldn't trust myself with such a thought. Without memories, there wasn't much of anything I could trust, really. "You don't seem to care much," he added, turning away.

I managed to keep myself from retorting. What was there to care about if I didn't know anything? Or anybody? The memories he listed meant nothing to me, and part of me wished he would stop trying. It wasn't worth it, to see his face fall after each failed attempt to get me to remember.

_Why do you say that? _the voice asked.

"I don't," I snapped. "It doesn't matter to me. Memories have come and gone—it's not _me _anymore. I don't want to hear things about the past."

He didn't seem as stricken as I'd expected him to be. "RikkaiDai… it was always more of a family than a tennis team," he told me at last.

I didn't answer. "Go."

He said nothing and headed toward the door. I watched him go.

I ought to have been satisfied that he was leaving.

I ought to have been pleased he'd listened to me.

Instead, I was confused.

Why didn't I want him to go?

It made no difference to me if he stayed or went.

I didn't know him.

_If he leaves, he'll be gone forever, _that little voice reminded me.

_It doesn't matter, _I replied.

_Doesn't it?_

His hand reached for the doorknob, and he turned back for the slightest second. I thought I could see something glimmering beside his eye, and wondered if he was crying.

Sanada Genichirou does not cry.

_How do you know that?_

_I don't._

_Are you sure?_

I…

**--**

"_Please leave," I ordered. "Upcoming? I don't want to hear things like that!"_

_Sanada bowed his head in acknowledgement, and left. I took that opportunity scream and let it all out._

**--**

"_I'm sorry that I have to leave the task to you," I said apologetically. "I, your captain, am dropping out of the tournament."_

"_Focus on recovering," Sanada said firmly._

…"_Sanada. I'm leaving this team to you."_

_He smiled, and the team left._

**--**

"_The operation has only a fifty percent chance of succeeding," I stated calmly._

_Sanada seemed startled, and was about to respond. Then, the rest of the team piled onto the rooftop. I chatted with them merrily, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sanada turn to leave._

**--**

Memories flashed, and suddenly, I felt woozy. Where a bottomless pit once laid had been replaced with something substantial, fulfilling, and I tentatively reached into it.

I tried to remember.

**--**

"_Are you going to help the freshman too?"_

"_I want you to win a fair match against him, Yukimura. That is the way we do things."_

**--**

"_Your match was so touching," Akaya sobbed._

_I smiled. "It's not something worth crying over." I turned to Sanada, surprised to see him smiling as well. He handed me a towel, and any anxiety over my loss faded._

**--**

"_Let's go celebrate!" Akaya cheered, and Marui clapped him on the back._

"_Shall we?" I asked, and Sanada stayed silent. The team watched us carefully, until at last, Sanada gave a nod. _

"_You've earned it," he said simply._

**--**

"_It's too bad," Niou said. "We're all going to college, and you're going to be left alone in high school."_

_Akaya grinned up at him. "Nah, you guys will come and visit, right?"_

"_Of course," I said gently. "You're our Aka-chan, and we're RikkaiDai."_

**--**

"_RikkaiDai… it was always more of a family than a tennis team."_

**--**

The room was spinning again—

_Again?_

Sanada rushed to my side, holding me up and crouching on the floor. He looked just as worried as he did that day I fainted by the train station, years ago.

_Years ago?_

Could it be...?

"I'm okay," I murmured, grasping the edge of the bed for support. "Thank you."

There was a change in my voice, and somehow, I wasn't surprised by it. "You always were reliable," I said in that old teasing voice. My smile faded, then, and I added, "Don't leave. Stay a while longer, won't you?"

"I…"

"And call Aka-chan and the others, if they're not busy. I owe him, you know."

He seemed startled by my use of the old nickname.

"I get the feeling he's up to something big," I continued.

There was that sensation of uncontrolled excitement rising, and I realized how easy it suddenly was to remember. It was there, right within arm's reach, waiting for me to call upon it.

"You remember?" Sanada asked, sounding incredulous.

I chuckled slightly. "You sound like a child on Christmas morning, Sanada."

"I'll go get the doctor," he said immediately, and stood up again. I grabbed his arm.

"I liked reminiscing," I admitted. "Just a while longer. And then you can get the doctor."

He hesitated, then let out a miniscule smile and sat back down. "Alright."

And for the next two hours, everything was perfect.


	22. XXI

Bring on the sap, everybody! One epilogue after this chapter and it's all over. I'm going to miss writing this. It's like _The RikkaiDai Sleepover—_just when I start to get the hang of writing it, it's over and done with. So not fair.

* * *

I sat at home with a sense of pride, something my family members weren't really used to seeing. I was Yanagi Renji, not Atobe, Echizen, or Akaya. I was quiet, and preferred the company of my computer to most others. I didn't boast of my accomplishments, nor did I taunt others.

I most certainly didn't go around, directing smug looks at my ever-suspicious uncle. But that day was certainly a special occasion.

He didn't know what happened, not yet. But I suppose he must have suspected something—he'd yet to receive word from the Genbu Corporation, and from what I gathered, they were supposed to meet an hour ago. Marui and the others had agreed to let me go home early, and though I wasn't sure if leaving them with the paperwork was a good idea, the idea of going home and scaring my uncle was too good an opportunity to pass up. When I'd arrived home—blissfully pretending nothing had happened—he'd given me a vaguely threatening glance.

_He knows, _I thought, somewhat cheerily. He'd caught onto the fact that I knew of his scheme. And he was threatening me to keep my mouth shut.

As Akaya would put it, _like hell I would._

But for my purposes, I'd keep quiet, for a while, at least. Spending years with the RikkaiDai tennis team had given me an acquired taste for the dramatic. God knew what Marui, Jackal, and Akaya were doing at that moment, but I wanted to relish every last moment, wanted to see the infuriated look on my uncle's face—if I could even call him that anymore.

Needless to say, once my parents found out, he'd be exiled from the family. Grandmother and Grandfather were a traditional couple of people, and they'd never tolerate behavior from one of their own. Their behavior—my whole family's behavior—was so predictable.

I'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was to be in control, to know exactly what would happen next. And I was infinitely more grateful to have it back.

My parents were completely clueless, of course. My sister would have pestered me to no end, had she not been studying abroad, and for that I was grateful; I liked having a secret to myself, for once.

And I was certainly taking sadistic pleasure in watching my cousin and uncle squirm.

Akaya truly is a bad influence on me.

My mother was the first to mention my new attitude. "Renji, you seem particularly cheerful."

"I am," I said simply. And unable to resist, I added with exaggerated innocence, "Say, I don't suppose you've read the paper lately?"

"The paper?" my father repeated, perplexed.

"How foolish of me," I mused. "Of course it's not in the paper yet. Maybe tomorrow's paper. Why don't we watch the news instead? It's six thirty, is it not? The news starts at seven." I gave a pointed look at my uncle. "I heard there was a supremely intriguing plot recently uncovered."

He was clearly startled, and then his eyes narrowed. I could practically read his thoughts. He was thinking, _How much does he know? Is it safe to stay?_

He stood up to leave, and my cousin abruptly followed. "I'll be right back," he assured. "I'm afraid I've got a meeting with somebody."

"I'm sure they're busy at the moment," I assured, that smug note still present in my voice. "Tied up, maybe?" I couldn't help it—I positively grinned. (No doubt I looked like Niou upon completely an especially twisted prank.) "Probably involved in legal matters."

My uncle gave a start of surprise. Clearly, he wanted to interrogate me, but there was only so much he could say in the presence of my parents.

"Aren't Grandfather and Grandmother coming over today?" I suddenly asked, as though I'd forgotten. "My, they'll be here soon. In time for the news, too. How pleasant."

I knew my acting was atrocious, and I knew my uncle had seen through it all. It was what made the situation all the more amusing.

"Don't leave," I said to my uncle, rather sweetly. "It's been so long since we've seen Grandfather and Grandmother. And this will be simply _wonderful _quality time, watching the news together. I do love watching the news. There are always so many interesting things to learn, so many schemes uncovered…" I was finding it very hard not to laugh.

My parents were staring at me, like maybe I was a bit crazy, but I didn't mind. This was ridiculously entertaining.

"Please, stay."

* * *

"I'm staying," I muttered to myself. "I'm staying. I'm staying." My hair was wet from the rain that'd been present only half an hour ago, and my shoes were muddy. I probably wouldn't be let into the house, just based on my appearance. Then would come the lecture on how disrespectful I was, how ignorant, how I didn't deserve a loving family because I was just _so _unorthodox…

The door to the Niou residence stared me in the face, and I stared back. I'd left the house for barely two days, so it didn't really count for running away, did it? I wouldn't be grounded that long, would I?

_What am I thinking? _I scolded myself. _There's a chance that Mom and Dad will just kick me out for good._

I frowned, taking in the house one more time. It seemed infinitely more sinister at night. The sun had set ages ago, and the specks of gold were gone. The doorbell seemed to be a little white eye, daring me to press it.

_Can't even face your own parents, can you? _it challenged.

I was _always _up for a challenge. So with more force than necessary, I pressed the doorbell. Instead of popping back out like it was supposed to, the button remained embedded in its little crevice, and I flinched. _If I don't get grounded for running away, I'll probably get grounded for breaking the doorbell. Or I'll get double the punishment, which is two months of no television, no video games, no tennis… _

The door was flung open immediately, and my head shot up. Normally, my family was slow in coming to the door. In fact, we were known for making our visitors wait at least three minutes. The light from inside the house burned my eyes, and I had to squint, having been walking around in the darkness for hours.

_Keichi? Is that you?_

The figure was too tall to be little Keichi, and I was disappointed.

Then I took in the appearance of whomever had answered the door, and I realized it was my mother, with tear-stained cheeks and a puffy red face. Her eyes were wide, hopeful, and she breathed, "Masaharu?"

"Hey," I said, stuffing my hands into my coat pockets.

She let out an exclamation of relief and embraced me. I was startled, to say the least.

There was the sound of running, and I realized my father was approaching us. "Is it the police?" my father asked. "Did they find him yet?"

They called the police?

To look for me?

Me?

I was disbelieving, but then I saw how disheveled my father looked. He was wearing sneakers (muddy ones) in the house, which he never did, and his hair was damp. My first thought was, _Hypocrite, _and my second was the realization that he must have been out.

Had he been looking for me?

Disbelief turned to tentative hope, and I called out, "Dad?"

In a moment, there was another pair of arms around me. "Don't you ever do that again," he mumbled, and I could just hear a lecture coming on, but surprisingly, the next five minutes were spent basking in a comfortable silence. "Don't scare us."

I scared them?

"Do you know how worried we were?" my mother demanded, and held me closer.

I worried them?

"Nii-sama!"

And immediately my eyes turned to Keichi, who was staring at me with a mixture of joy and awe. "You're back!" He ran to me and grabbed my hand like there was no tomorrow.

"Told you," I said. And I just knew we were wearing identical grins at that moment.

He joined the hug, and I wondered how ridiculous we must have looked, a giant group hug on the doorstep.

"We love you," my mother said into my hair, sounding relieved. "We love you, we love you. I'm so sorry about before. I wasn't being fair to you, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I shouldn't have pushed you away…"

"It was my fault," my father said, and I was surprised—my father never took the blame. For anything. "God, I missed you. I was so worried, we were so worried, and we missed you so much…"

"I love you too," I answered, and Keichi's grip on my hand tightened.

"Let's go in," Keichi suggested at last, breaking the sap-fest.

I convinced myself that the warm liquid by my eyes was simply leftover rainwater and walked inside with the rest of my family.

We hadn't been a family for a while already, and I'd forgotten how great it felt to be one. But it was back.

And in place of my usual smirk, there was a slight smile.

* * *

There was a slight smile on my face as I walked toward my family. They were sitting outside the hospital room. The doctor had told them that there was new information on my condition, but hadn't told them I'd regained my memories.

I think he knew I wanted to show them, myself. I'd almost forgotten how it felt to remember (what an ironic statement), almost forgotten what it felt to know everyone, everything. It felt even better to remember.

My mother stared at me for a long moment, her expression worried. "Seiichi, what are you doing? Go back in your room; you're not well enough to be walking around." My father murmured his agreement, looking just as distressed.

My little sister held tightly onto my mother's hand and stared at me tearfully. "Nii-san?"

I smiled at her. If anybody could tell I'd regained my memories, it was Akane. She was always one of the more perceptive members in the family.

Sure enough, she said, "That's Seiichi-nii-san's smile."

"It certainly is, Akane-chan." Her eyes lit up, and she quickly latched onto my arm.

"Seiichi?" my mother said quietly, and peered at me. Could she tell? I decided they needed a push.

"How much homework do you think I'll have to make up?" I asked, amused. "Kirosuke-sensei was always one of the more lenient teachers, though he gives the most work. I think I have some blackmail information on him, though…"

And that was all it took to convince them.

Once the sobbing and thank-yous and don't-you-ever-do-that-agains were over, I spotted Sanada standing a bit off to the side.

He didn't look like a rock, for once, and I told him so.

"I'm going to speak to the doctors," my mother said, and my father followed. Akane remained loyally attached to my arm, and I smiled down at her.

Maybe it was from lack of sleep, but Sanada actually laughed a little, though lightly.

"I'm using that against you someday," I told him.

He shook his head. "It's good to have you back. We should tell the rest of the team—goodness knows how busy they've been, with their own dilemmas…"

"I've contacted Akaya," I interrupted. "He'll be informing everyone else of the situation soon enough."

Sanada nodded. "I should go," he said, albeit hesitantly. "My family, they—"

"They're waiting," I finished, nodding. "Go on, and I'll see you tomorrow."

He murmured acknowledgment and prepared to leave.

"Ne, Sanada."

"Hm?"

With all the sincerity and gratitude I could muster, I said, "Thank you."

"Thank you," the policeman said formally. I whooped in response, and Marui-senpai promptly cuffed me on the head.

"Thank _you _for the help," Jackal replied. "We understand you'll be contacting and arresting the clients of Genbu Corp. as well?"

The policeman nodded. "That is, assuming we can find them," he admitted. "It will be fairly difficult to locate them all, and if they have been forewarned by any members of Genbu Corp., there's a very high chance they'll manage to give us the slip. But we will do our best, and keep you updated on any progress we make."

I nodded, satisfied. Yanagi-senpai would decide his uncle's fate, in the end. He had the older man right where he wanted him.

Everything was over and done with. I was certain that Niou-senpai and Yagyuu-senpai had sorted out any problems, that Niou-senpai's issues in particular were gone. Jackal-senpai could stay in Kanagawa now, Yanagi-senpai's uncle was screwed, Yukimura-senpai's memories were back.

This was my well-deserved day of perfection.

For once, there were no more worries. I'd forgotten how wonderful it was to be carefree, and was a thousand times more grateful for it now.

I'd had enough drama to last me a lifetime.

Marui-senpai and Jackal-senpai began talking with the policemen, a bunch of legal stuff I didn't understand, so I stood off to the side. Would things just go back to normal? Would everything that'd happened be forgotten?

It was possible. I'd graduate from high school, go to the same university as everyone else, make the tennis team there totally awesome, and everything would just flow, just go as planned.

That was what I used to think, at least.

It seemed so simple. You let the course of things happen, trusting that things would go naturally your way. But things never really worked that way, and I knew better now.

"_Things only get better. You have to get past the pain and let the good reach you."_

For such a long time, I'd assumed it was a lie.

I think, maybe, I just misunderstood it.

You can't really get past pain without trying, you know.

**

* * *

**

Yanagi Renji's glare was cold. "Just how much were you willing to do for wealth?"

His uncle was left speechless.

The rest of the family watched in silence, Grandfather's gaze reproving. "I leave you to make the judgement, Renji," he told him. "You've earned this."

But Yanagi barely heard the praise. "I'm not heartless, though you don't deserve sympathy. Gather your things and leave. You no longer have a place in this family. We won't tell the police where you go. Whether you get caught or not is no longer of this family's concern. Don't you _dare _come back."

**x**

Niou Masaharu laughed with the rest of the family. "I can't reach that far!" Keichi was protesting, in reference to the game of Twister they were currently playing.

Their father groaned. "You think you've got it bad? You're crushing my back, Keichi!" But the mirth in his eyes took away any sting in his words, and another round of laughter followed.

"Come on, Keichi," their mother encouraged. "You can do it."

Keichi stretched as far as he could, and managed to hold the position for a few seconds before toppling over, taking everyone down with him. The game turned into a giant heap of laughter. "That's not fair," he complained between bouts of laughter. "I want a rematch!"

"With pleasure," Niou chuckled.

**x**

Yagyuu Hiroshi smiled to himself. The English essay assignment sat in front of him, and he reread the guidelines.

_As individuals, we have different definitions of the true meaning of life. While there is possibly no correct answer, I'd like you to write one essay describing what you feel the true meaning of life is, or the significance of your own life._

For the longest time, he'd had no idea what to write. But something about that sunset, about helping a friend, about watching a reunion…

It was inspiration, in a way.

In any case, he finally knew what to write.

**x**

Marui Bunta sat on the sofa, munching on a slice of cake and sitting with his two younger brothers. The television was on, and the three of them were watching their favorite cartoon. With their parents out of the house, they were free to do whatever they wanted for the next three hours—and as a result, the house was a mess.

"It's been a while since we've done this," Marui said thoughtfully, and his brothers nodded in agreement.

"At least we're starting again now, right?"

Marui reached for another cake and grinned. "I couldn't agree more."

**x**

Jackal Kuwahara sighed in relief. "We're staying in Kanagawa," he repeated. "We're staying in Kanagawa. We're staying in Kanagawa."

His mother chuckled. "Yes, we are. You can stop saying that now."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm so relieved, that's all."

"I'm sorry about the situation with Genbu Corp.," his father said apologetically. "I had no idea…"

"And how brave you were," his mother added, "to take charge of everything that happened."

Jackal gave another sheepish smile. "I'm just happy we're staying in Kanagawa," he admitted.

**x**

Sanada Genichirou held his katana. Darkness washed over the room, but the usual eeriness of the situation didn't affect him.

To put it frankly, he was too relieved.

The ordeals were finally over, and everyone could move on.

In one fluid motion, the straw was slashed into a perfect half. He exhaled and lay the katana on the ground. It was about time for dinner, wasn't it? Knowing his brother—

"Genichirou! Dinner!"

Sanada gave an exasperated sigh and made his way out of the room, though he couldn't really bring himself to be upset.

_No… the day is too perfect to be ruined, _he thought, and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

**x**

Yukimura Seiichi smiled up at his mother. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, sounding ecstatic. "They're letting you go home. You'll have to go back for a checkup soon, but otherwise, we're clear! You're going to be fine."

Akane had fallen asleep on her older brother's lap, and their father was waiting in the car. "We should go, then," Yukimura said. "I don't like the hospital."

His mother laughed. "Neither do I. Let's hope we never have to come back."

"We won't," Akane suddenly said, drowsily. She stared up at her brother. "We won't."

"We won't," he agreed, and took her tiny hand in his. "Let's go."

**x**

Kirihara Akaya peeked out his window and growled. His neighbor's cat. That stupid, stupid, stupid cat.

Immediately, he opened the window and began throwing pens at it. The infuriated meows that followed was music to his ears.

"It's good to be back," he decided, grinning widely.


	23. Epilogue

_Once upon a time, there was a boy. _

Akaya fidgeted in the auditorium seat, fiddling with his blue graduation gown. This was lame. They didn't even get those cool graduation caps to throw in the air.

He turned around for what must have been the fiftieth time—ignoring the quiet scolding of a teacher—and searched for his teammates. Yukimura smiled at him, whereas Sanada seemed mildly annoyed that Akaya couldn't sit still. Marui and Jackal sat with Marui's younger brothers, and Yanagi mouthed, "_Turn back around." _Niou and Yagyuu sat with Naomi, who'd come back for a brief vacation—and to visit her little brother.

Reassured that they were watching him, Akaya turned back around and tried to pay attention to whatever the principal was rambling about onstage.

"Kirihara Akaya?" the principal was calling, confused and a little panicky. "Kirihara Akaya, are you here? You have to present your speech—Kirihara Akaya?"

_Oh, shoot._

So _that _was why Yanagi-senpai told him to turn around. He grinned sheepishly and stood up. "Hi!"

The audience snickered. Akaya could faintly hear Sanada muffle an exasperated groan.

**--**

_The boy had many friends, and they were all very happy._

**--**

Head held high, he walked toward the stage. "Sorry 'bout that," he whispered, and grabbed the microphone. The principal stopped him.

"Where's your speech?"

Akaya blurted a swear word. "I, uh, think I left it at home."

Clearly the audience heard the conversation, for Sanada sank further in his seat and Yukimura gave a little amused chuckle. "Oh, Akaya."

"You say that like you're proud of him," Sanada replied, covering his face with a hand.

"Shouldn't we help him?" Yagyuu asked, slightly worried. Naomi murmured agreement, but Niou merely shrugged.

"He'll think of something."

Akaya straightened proudly at that. He couldn't act like an idiot—not now. It was the last day of school, the graduation ceremony. It was the last chance he had to leave a strong impression on his graduating peers. And he wanted to sound like he actually knew what he was talking about, for once.

So he talked. "When I was but a child, an old family friend said to my mom, who was going through a tough time in her life, "Things only get better. You have to get past the pain and let the good reach you."

"I don't think I really understood a single word in that sentence back then, to be honest. As a six year old, well, you don't know a whole lot of words. And besides, I was a little slower than usual. I forgot about that sentence as time wore on.

"One day, I came home crying because I lost my favorite watch: an expensive, important watch that had belonged to my deceased granduncle. It was a few years later; I was around nine. My mother smiled down at me and pulled me into a hug. "Akaya-chan," she said quietly, rocking back and forth, "things can only get better. You have to get past the pain and let the good reach you."

"I was bewildered, but by then I was old enough to understand the basic meaning of that line. I began applying to everyday life. I wanted so much to believe it was true. Amazingly, my grades began to improve, my popularity hit the charts, and I was simply happier in general. I was overjoyed. I knew it. I could feel it. Things would get better, would improve. All I had to do was let it. I knew I would eventually reach my well-deserved day of perfection.

"And I did, as a second year. I had a fantastic captain and assistant captain, great teammates who all cared about me, and an infamous reputation. I thought what they said was true, about things growing better and better. After all, as a first year, my nonexistent reputation as a tennis player was . . . well, nonexistent."

Akaya heard Niou chuckle, and promptly glared at him before continuing.

"But things only got better from there on. It was miraculous how the team managed to stay together. How we managed to win every school we attended a good old tennis trophy. How we had everything planned out, how we arranged to meet again from time to time when we became adults, how we managed to keep our silliness and childish antics even as high school students. From my senior year in junior high, my freshman year in high school, and my junior year; things got better and better. But then again, I was so blind at the time I wouldn't have noticed a crisis if it were dancing in front of my nose in pink boxers.

"In any case, I couldn't wait for senior year. I could feel it; it was going to be the best. It was going to be epic. It was going to be memorable, something I would one day tell my love-struck fans and fanatics. Everything about my senior year was going to be special. I would breeze through it, graduate, and go to the same college as the rest of my teammates because we were all just awesome that way.

"But things started crumbling before I got there.

"That was when I began to realize that they were wrong. They were all wrong. I had been living, been hoping, been _trying . . . _for a lie."

**--**

_Then something went wrong. One thing, two things, then more than he could begin to count. And he felt hopeless._

**--**

Akaya paused—partially for dramatic effect, partially because he had no idea what to say next. "But it wasn't a lie, not really. At least, not so much a lie as a misunderstanding. I was too young, even then, to really get what was going on. I took things for granted—it became a habit of sorts. And I think that was what led to an untimely downfall.

"For a while, our problems just kind of drifted. It didn't seem like there was anything to do—and I wanted so badly to apply that line of hope to it. So I let it drift. That was my second mistake, I guess. Because things didn't get better; they got worse. From worse to worse to worse to worst, and I thought I was going to drown.

"That was my third mistake—believing I'd drown." He raised his head high then, and scanned the audience. "Believing I'd lose control over everything, forever. I'd never let that happen, and I'd forgotten that." He grinned. "But then I remembered. There was something I'd overlooked, and that what changed everything.

"You can't really get past anything without trying, can you?

"So the statement wasn't a lie. Like I said, I think it was just a misunderstanding. And it's not like my efforts went to waste. Things got better. From better to better to better to best, and I realized I wasn't drowning after all."

**--**

_But the boy had forgotten he had friends, best friends. He'd forgotten the morals that had gotten him so far. So he began to remember, he began to climb back. It was a slow climb. He changed along the way, but his heart remained the same._

**--**

"Now I'm going to the same university as my teammates. I'm going to be number one, I'm going to be the best. And if I ever fall, I'll remember what happened in high school, I'll remember what disaster it was, and what a blessing it became."

He gave a lopsided smile. "I'll remember I can try."

There was silence, then a smattering applause, then a thunderous applause, and then somebody stood. Then two people stood, then three, then four—ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred. And soon the entire audience was standing, applauding him, applauding something that had been made up on the spot.

Akaya's first thought was, _Wow, I got lucky._

He hopped down the stage, ignoring the principal's protest of "That's not how we rehearsed it!" and plopped back on his seat, ready to receive his diploma.

**--**

_Once upon a time, there was Kirihara Akaya._

_And that says it all._

* * *

After a gazillion chapters, it's over! I'm kind of disappointed, but I'm also relieved I finished it. I was always a bit afraid I'd leave it unfinished, but it's not! It's complete—my first dramatic work, haha. I sincerely hope you liked it.


End file.
